Part 16

[Schmulky]

I was minerunning in Pearl – the rates for platinum there are usually higher than in Rucker. Anyway, there I was, just settling down to mine a rock, when suddenly a red blip shows on my radar which confused me. First, I'm not too enemy-prone. Anyone who knows me will swear to whichever deity they happen to worship that I'm the best pilot alive, or at least somewhere in the top ten, but they'll also swear that I tend to keep to myself. Nobody in Evochron has much of a reason to kill me – at least not since I quit hunting Rebels in Fauston. Just about as unlikely as a Fauston rebel in Pearl was the only other remote possibility; that my bogey was a Vonari. I looked out the the canopy – sure enough, there was sunlight glinting off of a closing object right where my radar put the red. I almost wished I had a scientist on board to analyze its exhaust plumes – to tell who built it – then I stopped myself. I would know soon enough.

I shut down everything I didn't need and hid behind the asteroid, on the slim chance that it might mask my signature, on the even slimmer chance that I hadn't been detected already. I had a pretty strong feeling that this wouldn't work out, and my suspicion was confirmed to the tune of missiles thumping off the far side of the asteroid. It occurred to me to wonder why I was hearing noises through a vacuum, but I let the thought slide. Well, I thought, At least the pilot is stupid.

That seemed my only advantage. I had just spent my last credit on a Striker frame with 5 cargo bays and a big engine, so I was lightly shielded and not too maneuverable. To save money I hadn't bought any missiles – those things cost more than a Denebian speeding ticket. Ont top of that I only knew two things about my bogey: that he was as dumb as the rock I was hiding behind and shedding missiles faster than a Vaygr battlecruiser. Three of the missiles had hit so far, and I guessed that the rock couldn't take much more. I came about to face the rock and the bogey, shifted power to the forward shields, and killed my IDS.

Four.

I punched the reverse afterburner.

Five.

The asteroid exploded. I don't know why it did that. There is no conceivable reason that a non-volatile hunk of nickel, iron, and water ice should explode almost as energetically as a capital ship. I made a mental note to contact some science academy about this, and killed my afterburner. While I was facing him, I targeted the guy. Saber frame, the readout said. That didn't tell me much of anything, but at least he wasn't Vonari.

I hit my slew thrusters and forward afterburner to bring me "up" and to a stop behind another asteroid. I figured that the guy couldn't have more than three more missiles left and, given his track record, pushing my luck might be a good idea.

One, pause, two, pause, three. Then a longer pause. I was about to edge out when I heard the gunfire. He was shooting the asteroid! I almost wanted to raise him on comm to give a few pointers on solid-state matter, but instead I turned to face him through the asteroid again. This time I didn't back up. As the asteroid started to explode, he stopped firing. Instantly I was accelerating through the explosion as fast as my afterburners would take me, gripping the trigger as if I had forgot to buckle in. Truth be told, my adrenaline was pumping. If there's one thing that scares me, it's facing an idiot. Don't want to let your guard down.

As I passed him, I swiveled around so I could keep firing on target. His gun had recharged and he squeezed off three shots before exploding in a fireball about half the size of either asteroid he had just blown up.

I checked my status – the red's three or so shots had done about 400 credits of damage. There must be another way to readily quantify spacecraft damage, I thought. I made a note to ask someone about that next time I went portside. One of his cargo bays had survived the explosion, so I pulled it on board. Meds. Six thousand or so credits. Nothing compared to the platinum I was about to mine. I jettisoned the meds and finished my run.

I docked at Port Oasis about an hour later with a good haul. I talked around while the pod got repaired, asking if anyone else had recently been attacked by a moron in a Saber. I found out pretty quick that the guy was a local legend – it's a wonder he hadn't come up in conversation before! Apparently my bandit was none other than the former CEO of the ELTOSR Shipping Syndicate, the closest thing the Federation has ever had to a proper trade empire. One day, the company's assets dissolved in a shady computer crash, the CEO went nuts, and was last seen maxing out of Orion Station in a stolen saber frame. The random attacks in Pearl had begun about a month ago. For some reason, no-one ever tried to face the guy. Everyone else just jumped away with minimal damage.

I didn't buy it, of course. The story was too simple, but I decided not to dig. Once my Striker was repaired and refueled, I headed back out to the asteroid field. I spent the rest of that month uneventfully mining platinum, and then I went off to find Pearl's Hidden Planet. It was time to get a better ship.

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 8-8-2014 by Schmulky]

[Maarschalk]

Nice little story there Schmulky....waiting for Part 2......

[Schmulky]

A few weeks into my mining runs, I had picked up the coordinates of Pearl's Hidden Planet from another freelancer in one of the bars at Port Oasis. I didn't want to go until I had some serious capital, so I kept mining. Come the day I refitted my Striker with less cargo space and more punch, especially for the long hop. If there's one thing that the CEO had reinforced, it was to prep for anything – especially in deep space. I still didn't buy any missiles, though – those things will milk you dry pretty fast.

I didn't any goodbyes to say. I fueled up one last time, then undocked and puffed out. The moment I cleared the screen, I punched in the Hidden Planet's coordinates, killed the IDS, set the autopilot, and sat back to enjoy the ride. Hopping along with a Fulcrum C4 can be pretty slow in deep space, so I played some holotetris to pass the time. I was about to beat my previous best score when I arrived at the coordinates.

I was more or less in the right place – there was a speck of a planet way off in the distance. I killed the autopilot and restored the HUD just as the bogey alarm went off, but I had already spotted them. Six reds, led by the pilot who had given me the coordinates a few weeks back (I could tell from the engine configuration), were forming a wall right in front of me. I didn't do a thing – just kept it on Inertial. I was barely subjump; we all knew I could punch right through them easier than an anvil through a solar sail. Rather than intercept me, they all backed off and started firing missiles.

Nothing hit me. Not even close. Even as I turned to face the missiles, I was outrunning them. I still shot them down for fun, though. I did the same for two more volleys, until I seemed to be out of missile range. Then I punched my afterburner. By the time I was back in range of the thugs, I was maxed in the opposite direction. I barreled through their wall again, and this time I didn't even bother to shoot down the missiles. They eventually exploded harmlessly behind me. I turned around and decelerated, enough to stay in missile range without risking actual interception. I flipped back to shooting the missiles down as they launched, and waited for the bogeys to run out.

Then something weird happened. After the eighth volley, they kept firing. It didn't change my situation much, but I was pretty flummoxed. Those guys had been squeezing off one missile per volley for 8 volleys; that's 48 missiles. I had counted. There was no way, short of some pretty shady modification, that anybody could be packing more than 8 missiles on a given pod. Well, no matter. As the 10th volley headed in, I maxed out away from the bogeys (still flying backwards) and brought up my NAV console. A quick check confirmed that the battle had drifted almost 1.5 sectors away from my last jump point – that was enough. I logged in a jump point right above the Hidden Planet's atmosphere.

It was far enough that there'd be no way for the thugs to track my jump, and absolutely no way for them to see me pop out near the far side of the planet, but it still should have been pretty obvious where I was headed. Ever the optimist, though, I pointed my pod back toward Pearl and switched to IDS. As I slowed, the thugs fired another volley. Before it got too close, I was safely jumping “toward� Pearl. Of course, I landed right on top of the hidden planet's atmo. I had left the IDS on for this jump, so I let it slow me down. My pod glowed a bit, but I slowed pretty quick. Soon I was flying through green approach indicators toward a city.

The first thing I noticed when I landed was the excessive docking fee, which I paid before I could have any second thoughts. The next thing I noticed was that all the items on sale were...incredible. I bought a set of Phantoms, fusion lasers, a cannon relay system, and my first repair system – a class 2. But what really caught my eye was a piece of equipment labeled “Mantis.� I checked the description; it said that the Mantis Jump Drive had an "unknown" range. There was nothing more specific on the cortex...Still, this was a hidden planet. I might never get this opportunity again - not without shelling out even more money. I sold my Fulcrum C4 and installed the Mantis.

My equipment needs met, I headed over to the shipyard. As I had barely dared to hope, they were selling Leviathans. I didn't hesitate. Before you could say “epic,� half my capital was wrapped up in one of those rugged, powerful frames. I gave it the best wings and shields I could find , then splurged on whatever else I could fit. With that done, I officially bought the pod.

To be honest, “pod� isn't the right word to describe a Leviathan. It's more like a church; all spacious and well-lit. I collapsed most of the the crew quarters in order to expand rec area. Over the next day I bought and installed a full scale holo, a comfy chair (bolted, of course), and a real shower with running water. The whole ship had that new-car smell that makes you feel like anything is possible. There was actually enough space for some rooms to echo! I've heard that churches on Earth used to echo too – not that I'm religious at all, actually, but I was really starting to enjoy the metaphor.

Unfortunately, the Leviathan also moves like a church. I was used to handling a twitchy pod, but maxing out in a Levi takes some serious time – almost as much time as turning. Once I hit Space I felt more at home. The Levi may be slow, but it is graceful, like its namesake. The back of my head wondered if there were any whales left on Earth. Before jumping out of range I downloaded 5 terabytes of whale song from the hidden planet's database. I had the computer pick out the most aesthetically pleasing gigabyte or so, and pipe it in through the ships hi-def, surround-sound intercom (with superbass) for the return trip. As I broke gravwell, I scanned for the bandits. No sign of them. I set course for Pearl and punched the Autopilot, reclined my chair, loosened my harness, turned up the whale song, turned down the lights and gravity (by voice command), activated the massage feature on my chair, and enjoyed that truly beautiful new-car smell.

I grinned. It was going to be a good trip back to Pearl.

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 6-24-2012 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 8-8-2014 by Schmulky]

[Maarschalk]

Enjoyed it, thanks Schmulky, for sharing looking forward to part 3.....

[Schmulky]

Thanks, Maarschalk, for your positive feedback! I hope that everybody has liked my story so far, and I certainly have enjoyed reading around to see what others have come up with. It would be really interesting if some of the ideas from these stories were incorporated into the game...

WARNING: Part 3 contains a spoiler about a very special jump drive. It also contains a dead body and a flashback. After reading some of the other fanfiction, I have concluded that this all seems to be within acceptable content parameters. If a moderator decides to censor Part 3, I will be sad, but I will understand. Everyone else: you have been warned. Enjoy!

[Schmulky]

The Mantis can really jump – 10 sectors in a hop if you're lucky. The long hop back to Pearl was going over twice as fast as the trip outward, which almost made me sad. I was really enjoying everything...the whale song, the massage...My shipboard computer, whose name was Avi, told me that there was some famous old 2-D about how a pair of hump-back whales saved the world in some future that never came true, and maybe I'd enjoy it. I told her to remind me about it later, then switched the computer to a male voice.

To pass the time I mulled over what to do with myself. I was a big boy, now, in a big ship, with more than enough left-over money to get by. Hell, if I could find an uninhabited region of some planet with refine-able biomass, I could just harvest that and synth my own food using the Levi's galley. Right here and right now, on a whim, I could decide to go and be a hermit. I may never have to work again, I thought. And instead of feeling free, I felt...empty. In that moment I knew that I would never hunker down and wait to die. One way or another, I wasn't through with making something of myself.

As luck would have it, that's precisely when I came out of a jump two kilometers from a distress beacon. I killed the autopilot before it registered. This guy was green. Why? Most everyone out here was yellow. I toggled IDS and headed over to get a closer look.

The first thing I noticed was that the pod was tumbling like the gyros had started to seize up. Then I noticed it was a Leviathan, like mine. Then the nose rotated into view, and I groaned. There was a big crack across the lower foreport, but no air escaping. “Zoom in,� I told Avi. I quickly confirmed the worst – the crack was wide open, but not venting anything. Then my training kicked in. Seat up. Grav-normal. Lights down. The whale song stopped mind-bellow. As soon as I got in range, I caught the pod in a tractor beam and stabilized its spin. I told Avi to park us as close as possible, and to give me a straight-line path from out airlock to theirs. Then I went to get suited up.

As I opened the outer airlock, I played my light over the wreck's hull, surveying it for any other damage. There was none. I clipped my tether to the nearest handhold and pushed off. I had a small gaspack, and I used a few jets to keep me going straight. Soon I was at the other airlock. I clipped my tether to the other pod, so that both Levis were connected, and clipped another tether to the airlock wall so I wasn't free. Then I cycled through, which took very little time because both sides were a vacuum. Well, I thought, At least some things still have power.

Even a Leviathan isn't too big, really. It took me less than half a minute to find the two suited bodies huddled in the aftmost bunk. 3 minutes later the bodies and I were in my yet unnamed Levi, and I was removing their suits, cursing myself for not buying any nanomeds while Avi prepped all the smart medical equipment on board. I had Avi run a bioscan on each body – we were lucky. Both of them, a man and a woman, were still fresh. I was a little rusty, so Avi had to talk me through CPR. I didn't even know the word “triage� at the time, and anyway, I don't even know why I chose to start with the man. By the time I had him breathing again, the woman was gone. Nanostims might have worked. CPR didn't. Defibrillation didn't. At some point Avi got me to realize that she was Dead, with a capital “D,� and that now I had to focus on stabilizing the man as much as possible. That was eady - just hook him up to an oxygen mask, lay him on his side under a smart thermal blanket, and hope for the best. I had Avi take over and went back over to the wreck to find out what had happened.

The mission logs had kept perfectly, though everything above the legal bare-minimum was heavily encrypted – standard procedure for anybody, really. The couple had been hopping along when suddenly, in between jumps, a micrometeorite skimmed their windshield – hence the long gash. Lucky for them it hadn't been explosive. There weren't even any spider cracks! They were very lucky, in a sense. Obviously the couple had been wearing their spacesuits at the moment of impact, and I wondered why. As safe as it would be, you just can't live in a spacesuit in a spaceship all the time. I figured I'd ask the guy about that if he ever woke up. I decided not to check their cargo until – unless, I corrected myself – the guy died again. I did look around a little more, though – lots of server stacks in the crew quarters. It seemed pretty clear that with minimal repair, this pod could fly again. The only reason it had been spinning was because the couple had diverted all the power from attitude to their distress beacon. I also noticed that on this leviathan, there were no bulkheads separating the two decks - a feature that I took for granted on mine. It just made sense to me that a larger vessel would have safeguards like that. Their databanks were full of what looked like scan logs, but I didn't try to hack. Beyond that, there wasn't much else to see, so I headed back to my ship. On the way back, I lost my grip and started to drift away, but I jetted back easy enough.

As I stepped through the airlock, I was overwhelmed with relief to see the man dressed, gaunt as hell, sleeping on a couch (Avi must have unfolded it while I was out). Then I remembered the woman, and the relief died fast. I felt desperate and impatient again, like all the time in the world was about to run out but I wasn't ready. I asked Avi if the ship came with any body-bags, and he told me which compartment they were in. I pulled one out, and zipped the woman in feet first, pausing only for a moment to look at her face. Who was she? She had been beautiful. Her hair was this perfect dark brown...sometimes, for an instant, you could swear it was jet black. Voices in the back of my head were yelling at me, trying to get my attention. It draped behind her ears into a small pony tail in the back. Her eyes were either green or hazel, I couldn't tell which...so dull...Suddenly I was zipping the bag all the way up. For an instant I could see the smoke and hear...I knew that face. It all passed soon enough. Then I noticed that my visor had fogged up pretty badly – I had forgotten I was still wearing my helmet. Hands trembling, I managed to unclasp my helmet and pull it off. I hadn't noticed the adrenaline until now, and I felt it draining fast.

“Leah?� a voice croaked behind me. “Is Leah all right?� I turned slowly to see the man raising his hand toward her, as if it would help, somehow. He looked like hell.

“I'm sorry,� I managed, “She's dead.� I finished turning and walked past him, up the ladder to the main pit. I sat down in the seat, which I noticed had been massaging the whole time. I turned it off, looked out at the stars, and cried.

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 6-24-2012 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 8-8-2014 by Schmulky]

[Maarschalk]

A good read, waiting to read Part 4 and learn more about the man and the dead woman Leah....

[Star King]

This reads like a movie!!!!

I can see it now!

EVOCHRON THE MOVIE!!!!!!!

[Schmulky]

We buried Leah at space later that day. I thought it cold, but Martis assured me she had no family. Apparently neither of them were too religious, because Martis just said a few words over the body and we “committed her to space� through the airlock. We didn't even put her in a casing, but that tends to be a brass hat thing, anyway. After the little ceremony thing was over, Martis turned to me. “I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude,� he said.

“Please,� I answered as firmly as I could muster, “You don't.�

“All the same,� he insisted, “You saved my life-�

“I couldn't save you both,� I blurted. Then a little voice in the back of my head pointed out that I was being rude. “I'm sorry,� I said, gently as I could manage, “I just...�

“Think of what you did accomplish today,� he told me. “You have made such a difference for this one person!" He put his hand on his chest. You saved my life,� he said, taking my hand, “I won't ever forget that.� I spent a few seconds trying to figure out what to do with my hand, but then he released it. I must have looked too relieved. "My name is Martis," he said, eager to break the silence, "Martis Cloud".

“Vannok,� I said. I reached back out on instinct and we shook hands. From the way he talked I guessed the anoxia had gone easy on his brain, which was good.

“You got a last name?� Martis asked.

“Nope,� I said.

“Huh,� Martis shrugged. He didn't press, though. A few minutes later, we were outside repairing his broken windshield with duct tape. The stuff has been around for ages – hundreds of years by some accounts – but I guess nobdy's ever come up with anything better. Anyway, we taped over the breach from the outside, sprayed pleximent into it from the inside, and incrementally pressurized the hab. With a little more time and a few more layers, we had a working windshield again. For redundancy, I made Martis promise to keep the the duct tape on the windshield until he could get a professional replacement. Unless we actually saw combat before then, which we both doubted would happen, there was no way he could conceivably need that window. He still had the primary cockpit, anyway. When I asked Martis about the lack of bulkheads in his pod, he said that he had bought Used. I asked him how old the pod was, and he said he didn't know.

Martis kept enough of a conversation going between the pods on the way back to Pearl, but my mind kept wandering back to the girl. I had never seen her before, but I knew that face better than anything. No matter where I tried to send my thoughts, they kept turning back to the girl...was I calling her “the girl� now? “Leah, her name is Leah,� I kept reminding myself. “Why now?� I caught myself saying it out loud. Then I wondered, Why, out of all the possible times, did this have to happen now?

We docked at Port Oasis again. Nice as it was, I was getting sick of the place. I really wanted to leave the system and never come back, but first I had some drinking to do. Normally I don't drink – blurry makes a bad pilot, but I didn't care right then. All I wanted was to pound Leah, Martis, the Blitz, and just about everything else into a pulp and out of my head. I must have done a pretty good job of it, because I don't remember any more of that evening.

By the next afternoon, some serious bloodcleansing had me sober and hydrated again. Martis and I sat down in his galley to talk business. I noticed that he looked like he'd been drinking, too, but happier. He struck me as the happy, inquisitive type. He probably thought Ooh, I wonder what this drink will do, and tried it, cataloguing his inebriation as it grew. On this morning he took a sandwich without checking the label, then offered me one, which I accepted. Why not?

“So what are you going to do now?� he began.

“No idea,� I said with a shrug. “I was looking for a purpose in life right about the time I found you, actually.�

“No kidding?� he leaned back and laughed a little. “I guess you found one, then.�

“Heh�

“Seriously, though. You got any ideas?�

“Well,� I replied, “I was thinking about shipping out to a warzone.� I smiled. “I like fancy flying.�

“You want to kill Vonari?� Martis seemed taken aback.

“I'm good at it,� I replied. “I like it. Point of interest - as far as we know the fighters are just drones. We've never picked up a body.�

"And the Cruisers?"

"The fish are probably manned, given their size to armament ratio. Thing is when they explode...debris analysis has found biomolecules, and that's all we know."

“It's too bad, all this killing,� mused Martis. As if I had betrayed him!

“The enemy is not alive.� The words were out of my mouth before I realized I'd said them.

Martis leaned forward. “Alliance, right?�

“Close,� I said. I still can't reason why I would feel so ashamed each time someone figured that out. “I was a merc. Technically, I'm still a Lieutenant Junior Grade. Could go back today, if I wanted.�

“May I ask why you left?�

"Sports injury," I said, and laughed once. Things sort of ground to a halt for a moment, and I didn't know where to look.

“You know,� Martis' voice got playful and dark at the same time. Upsetting. “I'm in the mood to do something insanely reckless, myself.�

“What you got in mind?� I asked cautiously.

“I don't know...�

With perfect timing, the station's distress beacon went off.

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 7-30-2011 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 7-30-2011 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 6-24-2012 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 8-8-2014 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 8-8-2014 by Schmulky]

[Maarschalk]

Ah, geeeez, don't stop when something exciting is about to happen....LOL.....:P:P:P:P

[Schmulky]

yeah...I felt kinda bad about that. I'll have the next bit up ASAP!

[Marvin]

C'mon, Maars ... it's a "cliffhanger." Ask MM. I'm sure he remembers cliffhangers.

Btw, it's refreshing to read a posted story that reads like a real book. Who's your editor?

[MMaggio]

Sure, I remember "cliffhangers"! We had "The perils of Pauline", "Flash Gordon", "Tom Mix" and a whole host of Saturday specials which always ended with the hero or heroine in a totally inescapable predicament with no conceivable way out.
"Tune in next week, same time, same channel..." the annoncer would say and we would have to wait all week to learn how they escaped, only to be left in yet another impossible situation for another week!
We lived on "cliffhangers"!:D:D

[Maarschalk]

What do you do when you find yourself in a dream in an inescabable predicament?...Like your swimming in a nice warm very clear and clean ocean and suddenly your surrounded by big white hungry sharks no land insight no help in sight just you the ocean and the white hungry sharks........there are many possible solutions but I'm looking for a particular one....

[ryuu]

Originally posted by Marvin
C'mon, Maars ... it's a "cliffhanger." Ask MM. I'm sure he remembers cliffhangers.

Btw, it's refreshing to read a posted story that reads like a real book. Who's your editor?

HEY, what's wrong wth fires?

oh and good work, i havn't got round to reading all of it, but what i've read is good!

[Marvin]

Originally posted by Maarschalk

... your swimming in a nice warm very clear and clean ocean and suddenly your surrounded by big white hungry sharks no land insight no help in sight just you the ocean and the white hungry sharks........there are many possible solutions but I'm looking for a particular one....

Only one good solution. Take off your glasses and change to Superman.

[MMaggio]

That scenario has really happened many times... they died.

[Schmulky]

Cliffhangers in space...a little ironic, don't you think?

Thanks, everybody, for all the positive feedback! As a matter of fact, I do not have an editor. I generally spew out enough thoughts to make one or two chapters at a time, then come back a few days later to clean it up. I usually do a final touch-up right before publishing, too.

I tend to remember absolutely nothing about my dreams. However, from my limited experience, if I had a dream like that, the sharks probably wouldn't eat me, and I probably wouldn't drown. I might try swimming in a few different directions, and there'd be this sense of mounting tension until the dream ended. I guess that, knowing I couldn't do much about the situation, I'd just wait for something to change.

Part 4's coming up...I am dealing with a little writer's block on part 5, though, and I want to insure some continuity before publishing.

Live long and prosper!

[ryuu]

i know what you mean, i'm getting a lil WB with fire

[Maarschalk]

Originally posted by Marvin

Originally posted by Maarschalk

... your swimming in a nice warm very clear and clean ocean and suddenly your surrounded by big white hungry sharks no land insight no help in sight just you the ocean and the white hungry sharks........there are many possible solutions but I'm looking for a particular one....

Only one good solution. Take off your glasses and change to Superman.

That is one good possible answer.....Marvin....

Since it is only a dream and I'm ussually aware that I'm dreaming I can manipulate the dream....

But the more simple solution and the answer I was looking for is: TO WAKE UP.
And you ussualy do anyways before dying......LOL....:P:P:P

[Marvin]

Originally posted by Maarschalk

But the more simple solution and the answer I was looking for is: TO WAKE UP.
And you ussualy do anyways before dying......LOL....:P:P:P

I never die in my dreams. Been shot. Been stabbed. Fallen off cliffs. Been chased by zombie sisters (take your pick ... I have six). Doesn't matter. So, it's more than likely it would be me eating the sharks (ever have shark soup?) instead of the other way 'round. And waking up is usually not an option ... I'm a sound sleeper.

[Maarschalk]

LOL....Marv, and yes I have had shark soup, iguana soup and many different kinds of soups......:P:P:P:P:P

[Schmulky]

Martis and I darted up to the main pit, and saw two reds squaring with the station on the radar. Seconds later we saw the hangar out the foreshield shudder as the station took a missile. I looked at Martis, Martis looked at me, and we both knew what was going to happen.

My ship was tractored 30 meters away. Getting there would take several minutes with all the airlocks, so Martis and I were in the same pod, literally. “You drive,� he said, sliding down the ladder to the lower deck. “I'll be the engineer, this flight.�

“You should know, I'm new to corvettes,� I warned him.

“Don't worry - I've never fought in a Levi, either!� he called.

“Great,� I muttered to myself. I took the con and eased us out of the hangar, on the far side from the bogeys. I called to Martis, “You wanna raise them, or should I?�

“You fly,� called Martis. “I'll handle the diplomacy.� As I parked us “behind� the station, I heard Martis' voice on the radio, “Attention, vessels. You are firing on a neutral station. State your justification.�

“This is not your business. Do not interfere,� came the gruff reply. It sounded like they weren't used to speaking Common, but I couldn't place the accent.

“Be advised,� said Martis, “If you maintain fire but do not offer any explanation, you will be fired upon.� No answer, except more missiles smashing into the station's shields. “All right,� Martis called up, “Let's do it!�

I flipped to Inertial, then slewed the Levi to the right, around the station's central column. The two reds looked like they were in pretty small frames, so I didn't expect too much trouble. First, we had to get their attention. As soon as I had a clear shot, I targeted the nearest one and opened fire. Neither bogey turned around, but kept firing on the station. Fine by me. I held down the trigger until I was out of juice, then slewed back portways ways for another slow run. They both turned to face me at about the same time that the first bogey exploded. I drifted behind the station, and reverse afterburned a bit so the fight would take us clear of the station's gravwell.

Sure enough, our guy came whipping around the station at full tilt, and fired two missiles at us, which I dispatched with countermeasures. He gained, we opened fire at about the same time, and I slewed right to dodge the incoming fire. Unfortunately, the bogey slewed to his “down,� which was our “right.� I started slewing to my "down" the moment I noticed, but our shields still crossed. “Hey, watch it, will you?� Martis shouted, but I could tell he was enjoying the show.

Turning around seemed to take forever. Our red could have blown us to bits, if he was a better pilot. Instead, he was making distance for another attack run. As we finished the turn, he came to a “stop� neatly in the middle of my targeting reticle. I opened fire again, slewing up this time, and we passed each other uneventfully. I figured one more run of this was going to be enough, and I even started to turn early. Then Martis called “Aren't you going to use any missiles?�

“Nah,� I called, “Don't need 'em.�

“You sure?� he asked.

“Yeah,� I said. “Trust me. This guy is playing Lincoln Logs to our Legos. The few hits we take will cost wa-a-ay less to repair than each missile he uses.� We finished the turn and I opened fire again.

“Okay, but we're splitting the repair bill,� he said as the second bogey exploded. I turned us around and headed for the station. We got a warm reception; they even repaired Martis' ship for free after he paid the docking fee. Of course, we got only blank stares when we asked around about who had sent the attackers. I didn't blame them. Martis and I were breaking the tacit code of the mercenary, the part where you never stick your neck out when you're not on contract.

I didn't sleep much that night – the thrill of the hunt I guess. Of course, I had technically just signed up to be the hunted, but that didn't bother me. None of that stuff matters in a fight, anyway.

Next morning the silent treatment was worse. Martis and I actually had trouble finding a shop that would sell us anything, so we headed back to my Levi for breakfast. I'll say this for algal porridge, it probably could manage to taste worse. Still, even that stuff couldn't dampen my spirits. Martis was a little more reserved about it than me, but it was pretty obvious that he was excited, too. I could also tell from the way he ate that he was pretty scared. Or maybe he just really, really didn't like the porridge. Either way, I didn't blame him.

There was another attack that day. Two the next. Anywhere from three to five each day after that. The bandits usually came in groups of two to five, but by two weeks in we were seeing close to seven reds per attack. Martis and I held them back no problem. I had never fought alongside only one other person, so it was a challenge to plan. One idea I had worked really well, so we stuck to it. Martis and I would fly out together, one a little ahead of the other. The reds would swarm the “bait� pilot, and try to get on his tail. As they got on, which was usually one-by-one, the “back� pilot would shoot them off. Sometimes a bogey or two would engage the back pilot, but Martis and I were both good enough to hold our ground for a little while extra. At the beginning, Martis and I traded positions each flight, but pretty soon we both noticed that he flew better as bait, and I flew better as back. About twelve days in, I bummed four echelons off a freelancer passing through. I don't like missiles, but it seemed like good insurance to have, given what I'd gotten myself into.

I was surprised that the reds kept falling for my ploy. You'd think they'd be broadcasting a live feed to their crime boss or what have you, and that the next wave would learn from it. But every time, like clockwork, they fell for the bait. Martis and I got so good, we could pull a skirmish in less than five minutes.

[Edited on 9-15-2010 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 6-24-2012 by Schmulky]

[Edited on 8-8-2014 by Schmulky]

[Maarschalk]

Another good read, thanks Schmulky.......

[Sinbad]

Great read Schmulky... Waiting for next instalment!