Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 59 – Further Measures
This cruel Cycle already seemed unending for Anna she felt like giving in to sleep. There was still no word about Emma or Febr! Anna noticed Sue was keeping herself busy reading up on Anna’s original RJL proposal, recent memos, and general background information. Otherwise Anna’s PA was waiting rather impatiently for the (all important) new node to come on line… any moment now! Sue had verified a long to do list with Anna, and was eager to get started on the top items some of which were marked urgent in bright red.
Anna had to admit if Suewyn was coordinating other less obvious team efforts they were so far invisible to casual inspection. Ravn was toying with his combat knife - something that helped him relax - having been ordered to secure the office via the reception. The command had come - much to his temporary annoyance - when Elaen had mysteriously turned up (out of uniform but heavily armed), and was invited in to the main office area to be alone with Anna.
As to her other staff Anna knew Ravn desperately wanted to know what was going on, all El had told her lover was that Anna was expecting her, and they could talk later!
Currently the Lt. Constable was staring at a mildly befuddled RJL Administrator expectantly.
Damn thought Anna realising Elaen was waiting on a reply. The off duty coppers last comment had gotten lost - going right over Anna head - due to a very minor distraction.
“Sorry,” explained Anna, “I think I need a stimulant shot, I missed that! It was ‘Slab’ my Main Line Computer blinking at me (well to her defence the machine had seemed to run through an odd sequence of lights) I’m all over the place this morning!”
“I wondered if you might explain the situation to Ravn first,” said Elaen again (this time) slightly impatiently. Elaen was feeling a bout of last minute nerve’s about the whole deal.
“Of course,” said Anna, “to be honest I would have said something earlier - only we didn’t know if you would definitely be willing to come onboard.”
“Well it was all very irregular,” said Elaen, “I suppose I might regret it, but I owe Carl. Anyway Anna I think you are both right Ravn needs - help he can trust - whether he will admit to it or not! It also puts the Commanders mind at rest having a member of his force on this team.”
Elaen knew it would earn her a few useful personal points, a favour that might be called upon later, if she ever inadvertently got into a sticky one herself - nonetheless Elaen.
“Given the nature of the crisis I can understand why Carl was concerned,” noted Elaen
“I just hope it doesn’t cause you too much trouble. I know this job will have to be treated as moonlighting,” said Anna, “are you sure you want to do this?”
“Sure enough! Anyway I plan to say I’m just hanging around to be near my darling love,” said Elaen with a wink trying to lift herself, “could you break the news now, then call me in when he stops throwing a macho wobbly?”
“Ok,” said Anna with a sigh, “wish me luck!”
“Good Luck!” replied the Lt. Constable meaning it.
Anna felt trapped (perhaps over tired) she hadn’t thought of a legitimate reason to say no when Carl had proposed bringing Elaen in. Anna feared in a way Elaen was just another problem, as she obviously knew nothing about the Core or the Legion, and would have to be kept in the dark about both. Of course Ravn didn’t know any details about the Core either although he did know Anna was mixed up with ANI and protecting something. Ravn also didn’t seem to know Fay, and Anna were Legion, as much as the RJL Administrator had been tempted to reveal this fact to her bodyguard.
Anna feared Fay might consider Elaen just one more spy, and security risk on the operation. This time an ArgonForge Corporate Police Officer spying for the Commander, still the added firepower might come in useful, and a part of Anna was glad to have somebody independent of the Legion of the Damned on her immediate team! Anna would trust the Carl, and Elaen over Fay and her butchers any station cycle.
Anna wasn’t even entirely sure she trusted Ravn - although she had largely decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, within reason! Nonetheless, it was getting difficult keeping track of all the varied pretences! For example: Anna would have to remember El believed Ravn was just an ex grunt, and ex AF copper. Elaen certainly didn’t know her partner was an ANI operative, and in Anna’s mind after Febr’s extraction something of an assassin! Anna hoped Sue understood the complexity of these relationships. Sometimes Anna envied Garrin it would be great just to jump into a scout ship, and disappear on a simple courier run.
Gregor found himself re-evaluating his priorities since he had given the Admiral Sven Hale his supposed final answer. Maybe, thought Gregor, he could let the whole sordid investigation into the weirdness within ArgonForge, and on AFC 4 go, maybe even pass it on to - some other fool - to stick their neck out! After all wasn’t his investigation just the means to an end, not the end in itself! Clearly Gregor still felt anger, and indignation, and was sure he had been ill used, but personal success could as the Admiral had eluded be: revenge, and victory enough for any Argon especially when it served the greater good!
Besides considered Gregor had he really had any real personal enemies, or more likely had he just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe his woes were even providential, if he had not suffered, and fought back would Sven Hale, and his coterie have noticed him? Unless he could find useful coverage in it, if he was leaving ArgonForge why should he care about that Corporations woes? The important thing now is to protect my back, thought Gregor, and look as shiny as possible to the rest of the Universe. From here on in Gregor planned to concentrate on speeches. Life was stranger than fiction what a wild ride this period in time had been.
Feeling somewhat more sober the AFC 4 Administrator was thinking about just how obsessive (even irrational) he might have been wrongly perceived to be by uninformed outsiders, well in part that had been his goal. Who had Gregor not questioned and distrusted since returning from Argon Prime? Gregor knew if he were going to play a political game, he would have to monitor his own paranoia, and keep a tight grip on his distrust. It felt good to once more feel part of a team instead of being besieged by untrustworthy staff!
Gregor encoded then backed up his data onto a singular Portable Data Store which he locked up - just in case - but then proceeded to wipe every single investigation related file off the main system, and his computer pad, it felt cathartic! Since he was wedding himself to a wider cause (in another turn around) Gregor’s suite was now home to extra Argon Navy guards appointed by Sven. The stiff grey uniforms would add even more to his kudos on screen as a victim of nefarious anti Argon forces. Gregor was looking forward to his latest run of scheduled on camera interviews.
Sven was relaxing in a large circular soapy bathtub, an especially designed powered collapsible item that went with him - no matter where he travelled. The Admiral sighed in pleasure in the hot bubbling water, he was delighted with Gregor’s final decision. The Oracle had decided the Administrator was the sort of slime he could completely trust, because he understood him so well! Gregor was a prostitute to his own success. The Admiral Sven Hale was sure Gregor would stop at nothing given the right incentive, and motivation.
Gregor had even provided some dirt on himself in the form of his late drug addiction, whether he was recovering or not. Even Gregor’s insecurities were just extra buttons for Sven as an anthropologist to push as, and when desired. All he needed now was for the - high priced - soft flesh to arrive to share his soapy water, and then everything would be perfect! In the meantime Sven lazily reached out, and collected a crystal tumbler from his attending Navy assistant taking a delicate sip of the gentle fuel and soda combination. Long ago the Admiral had realised just because he was a patriot didn’t mean he had to forego the good life!
The Node came on line almost at the same instant that eight heavies the Black Dog Marines appeared at the offices outer door. The marines were dressed in neat uniform like station suits sporting RJL patches. They were all wearing concealed armour and were well armed not to mention being followed by a train of auto luggage full of more equipment, and personal items.
Even though they had all the right passwords, and had gone through the main Harbour Tower East’s security Ravn, and Elaen checked them - thoroughly over again - one at a time, as each member of the squad passed in to Anna’s reception. Ravn doing this double check didn’t bother these troopers, but they seemed very distrustful of Elaen’s presence, and quickly queried who she was. Ravn just said she was a personally trusted friend of RJL - short term, weapon licensed civilian help. Making it plain anything else was not their concern.
“Elaen is with me, don’t expect her to give or take any orders except through me,” said Ravn as the Chief!
“Fair enough so where are we billeted,” came the reply from the Argon labelled Josh.
“Where ever Anna, and Garrin can find some space,” confessed Ravn, “facilities are going to be a bit rough, and ready. I plan to divide you between here, and the main office. Your duties will be to secure these two premises, and the persons of Anna Dei, and also Garrin Omega when that Owner / Courier is on AFC 4. This duty will be performed around the clock. Just in case there is any confusion you are working for me. I smell even a whiff that you are reporting to anyone else outside of these duties I assure you, you will be packing your bags. I need people I can trust to do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. I can’t afford ambiguity in the chain of command. Also to avoid any later confusion while this is a civilian operation remember this - despite any names on the wage slips - you don’t work for Anna or Garrin either, no matter what they might think. You work for me, I work for them, and that is that!”
“Sure chief,” said Josh with a smile, “I’m glad to see we haven’t been landed with a duffer in charge!”
“Ok I’ll need a full breakdown on your talents, and everything you’ve brought with you down to toothpicks. Then we can discuss assignments and rosters,” stated Ravn.
In Priests Pity Tur was well satisfied with the operational status of his new base. Now Tur decided his principle concern was the effect of the capture of the Port on wider Paranid relations. The mass suicide by the Paranid was a bizarre occurrence; the Arch Fallen Angel had no terms of reference for such behaviour. The Worms were renowned for being insular, and secretive almost as much as they were religious. Despite the Pirates long association with the Paranid the recently reborn Hector Bane had only been permitted to scratch the outer surface of the alien culture. With his prime contact tortured and deceased Tur had decided he would have to open up new channels. The Fallen Angel was keen to reach out beyond the pale to servants of the Priest Emperor, rather than just dealing with outcasts.
Tur hoped he could establish a firm relationship with the Paranid that would secure his position as a useful if independent ally. Stored memories from the original Tur Ryn seemed to suggest that an official operative had breached the station. With the blood sign it was possible that the matter of dishonour, and affront caused by the incursion, and capture of the Port by the Argon was deemed - for the moment - paid in full. However, Tur Ryn was far from certain that this was the case.
The Paranid fleet could crush his growing force like a bothersome insect. Bribes, donations, and hitting the Paranid’s enemies had so far worked in their favour, but the death of so many worms - even outcasts of uncertain status - and the occupation of the Port in Paranid Space by Argon would be difficult for the isolationists to forgive. Tur desired to forge a mutuality of purpose, and gain even a limited degree of feedback - otherwise he would be wasting a lot of effort constantly watching his back.
To this end he was currently on the local trade station meeting a very unusual individual a Paranid of rather infamous, and dubious repute, a lowly and despicable - unclean - specialist in Alien / Paranid relations. Ostensibly involved in academic research Tur had reason to believe this Monster was something more.
“Welcome Dark One,” thundered the creatures sound box extending a clawed hand to carefully clasp, and with a similarly precise light touch shake Tur’s hand.
This degree of easy contamination by the Paranid shocked the Pirate. Adammassollok truly was a specialist. It was no wonder they were meeting in a private space were the big worms actions would not be deemed either - shockingly demeaning - or tantamount to a racial heresy, never mind a more general betrayal of Paranid etiquette.
“You humble me mighty Adammassollok,” replied Tur, “I am unworthy of your attentions, honoured beyond words at such grand and unexpected accommodation!”
“Please, please seat yourself there is no need for such formality. I am a student of Xeno Psychology a very rare - but in these times necessary - thing among my kind, and delighted for the opportunity to converse and interact with Argon in our own space. Mostly I fear my dealings are with the rather irascible Split. Besides of all Argon of which I have heard rumour, you perhaps fascinate me the most,” stated Adammassollok.
Tur was fascinated himself he had never heard such a perfect rendition from a Paranid voice box, it would almost be easy to think he was talking to an Argon.
“My compliments on your equipment,” said Tur, “a remarkable feat of programming. Do you mind if I ask why you are so interested in my own story?”
“Well it is simple enough,” noted the Wormy Alien, “you have occupied a Paranid station, slain many of our shadowed kin, and yet you still live.”
“I have wondered about that myself,” replied Tur Ryn, “I am here in the hope of begging formal forgiveness for my actions. If such can be accepted from a rank unholy creature such as myself!”
“Remarkable,” said Adammassollok, “truly you are an ambassador of some sensitivity as I suspected from your earlier communications, not just a mad psychotic killer of the outcast, and your own kind as might be suggested from your growing legend.”
“I have never taken a life without a reason,” replied Tur, “I am as a father - to my own people - if an unholy terror to my enemies! We Argons are a fractious species.”
“This in part we understand, though the factionalism of your people alarms the less well travelled among us - greatly! Such a lack of social order - of firm hierarchy - is incomprehensible to many of my kindred. They would deem your species not just damned, and unclean of purpose but irreparably insane! Even the Split - blind creatures that they are - largely look to one enlightened leader for guidance,” noted Adammassollok, “as you may have realised our own pirates rarely prey upon our own ships. Only the mad ones - true anarchist heretics - that tend to live, but short spans are guilty of such senseless betrayal.”
Somehow Tur doubted it was quite as simple as Adammassollok would have him believe, or as wholly harmonious despite the Paranid’s strange caste system. Where even outcasts just another caste? he wondered.
“Is it possible that officials of your Priest Emperor would accept the opening of a channel of communications with such as I?” asked Tur Ryn.
“Impossible!” snorted the Paranid, “any official communication would require an official acceptance of your invasion of holy Paranid space. An intolerable blight on the sanctity of the Empire,” explained Adammassollok, “what you require is something else altogether. You will never be - openly - officially accepted here not within the Paranid schism. Nonetheless, this need not prevent a degree of tolerance and even deep cooperation. Many removed devices exist for tacit approval of Inferior Race / Paranid interactions. Between you and me it is unfortunate that one such conduit has been corrupted by your actions! Thus perhaps your current predicament!”
“My capture of the station, I think I understand, and you also were surprised at the lack of reprisal by your fleet,” noted Tur.
“You have been favoured Tur Ryn, do not doubt it. I can carry your humble regrets, and perhaps aid you via passing on how you might be able to remain within the main zone of the Priest Emperors deliberate oversight! Little more can myself or any other do. I regret you will always be unclean, and alien, you are not Paranid!” explained Adammassollok.
“Then I will be glad to accept your future advice and recommendations should you have any,” stated Tur.
“I see we are in full agreement. So far since your crime, you have done… well enough! I believe many are secretly quite pleased to see Argon, and Boron traffic suffer in this region. Nonetheless, the loss of too much shipping here just encourages the competition to move into our space elsewhere. A spreading of the risk to other Paranid Border sectors would seem to me a desirable defence of our spaces overall integrity, we do not desire too much unholy intrusion into our shipping lanes!” noted Adammassollok.
“Indeed,” noted Tur.
Back on AFC 4 Fay was running on adrenalin and a carefully monitored regime of stimulants. Febr was still unresponsive but she had been told he could recover any moment or it might take cycles or be never. The technical side of the operation - at least - appeared to be a success with the Professors brain now running at a cool optimum temperature.
Despite these small victories the Commander in Chief was growing more and more alarmed that no word had come in from the kidnappers. Just what were they waiting for, or was Anna playing them all for fools. Sue had contacted her about passing on a request for a few quickly reconditioned Personnel Transports to get RJL up and running in front of the media. A simple enough matter two ships were being cleaned up already, given new IFF’s corporate logos, and equipped with JD’s pre-installed all ready to go. The vessels would arrive even with temporary pilots on deck before the end of this cycle. It was amazing what you could do with the full resources of a fleet behind you. Of course their would be an accounting - such materials - could not be let go as free gifts. Still it would have been a cheap investment even if they were, as Fay was sure RJL would prove a useful future asset to ANI in so many ways.
The Commander in Chief was going to miss Suewyn she was one of Fays official three PA’s - a very capable female indeed - however Fay needed somebody in there she could fully trust, not just somebody that was admin, and combat able! If the test by some miracle now managed to run its full course at least Fay felt she was no longer restricted to working from the outside picking up scraps.
Leaving Anna on her own had never been in her mind a good solution, oh she had passive watchers on AFC 4, but nobody really close. Ravn’s outside appointment had seen to that - much to her annoyance. However, Fay dared not move in - lest Ban think she was over eager to grab the ‘Hive access Core’ for herself! The kidnapping of Emma if it did not cause an utter disaster was a fateful sending. Was it possible that Sven knew this and was playing her against Danna? It wouldn’t do to underestimate the Oracle, as he was known lately Sven seemed to be full of surprises. Then again Fay had more than a few surprises of her own, and she suspected Ban now that he was informed would be no slouch in that department either.
Reapers Passage [Fan Fiction] Chapters 0-121 (story arc completed Mon 14th Apr 08)
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 60 – Purgatory / Sympathy With The Devil
They say nothing lasts forever, given how Anna felt at the moment she hoped the axiom was valid. In the end the RJL Administrator was forced to give in, and pull out the injector again. Obviously Anna mused she was getting just a little too old for all night stupidities. As much as everything was in hand Anna was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on any single task. Instead Professor A settled for hovering around giving the occasional order, or bit of advice.
With four security guards plus Ravn, Elaen, Sue, and herself the private office space felt very claustrophobic. One unexpected difficulty was the simple logistical necessity of everybody’s toilet needs. It was either share her own facilities, or have everyone tripping off back, and fourth to the sections public, and or slightly better class pay per use amenities - neither of which was a perfect solution by any means. On the other hand the atmosphere had a strange almost adventuresome quality about it. Reminding Anna of less harrowing childish sleepovers, and more mature student days roughing it at some friends place on a futon following a party.
The four members of the latest arrivals (the Black Dog Marine Sappers) had a natural easy way with their casual decampment. Anna soon found herself joining the troops - all but the current designated sentry - in sharing a late spicy (ordered in lunch), an oddly homey undertaking among these disparate members of RJL. Alarmingly the food was served only after it was sniffed, and tested - for toxic or anaesthetising substances, something Anna wouldn’t have considered necessary. On reflection however even such seemingly OTT procedures did make good sense, certainly Anna could see little point in having guards if they were poisoned or drugged unconscious. Still such measures didn’t in any way stifle the Dogs good humour and the light hearted banter that soon ensued spread out to the other members of Anna’s crew.
A lot of the comments being flung around were mildly flirtatious, not surprising given the fact that the Dogs were all male, and had three female victims on hand. Luckily the infectious humour was - not too raw - perhaps because the Marines were also eating with their designated Chief. Anna was glad of the respite and found herself playing along - a little - well it helped to drown out some of the station cycles dourness. Elaen was also enjoying herself. It was obvious to Anna that Elaen was winding her partner up (in revenge for his earlier huffiness, over her unexpected inclusion in the venture). The normally easy going Ravn was suffering a degree of open consternation, and was unusually straight faced. Finally Ravn gave in and decided to play along, but immediately suffered from foot in mouth disease - stating that he knew he should have pursued Shimoo instead of Elaen! The comment saw Elaen storm out to reception with a face like rolling thunder.
“Damnation,” cursed Ravn, “I didn’t mean… Paranidia I’m in the dog house now,” he continued before grabbing some spicy ribs, and chasing after his partner.
“Ouch! So who is this Shimoo then?” asked Pax.
“Trouble that is no longer on station, and a name best - forgot about - around that pair,” said Anna nodding toward the closed reception door.
“Nothing like a female that’s trouble,” said Pete with an evil grin.
“What like Caitlin?” Pax asked laughing out loud.
“Not funny,” replied Pete, “Kitty’s not a female she’s a wild beast.”
“No Kitty is female all right, your just not Argon enough to tame her!” said Cole.
“Anytime you feel lucky you can join the pool Mister,” replied Pete.
“I’m not the one who did all that boasting back at the Barn,” noted Cole.
“Do you always bet on your relationships?” Anna asked.
“On relationships no, on Kitty all the time,” explained Pax, “I swear she is half Split, and thrice as mean.”
“It’s not polite to speak ill of the afflicted,” commented Pete pulling a face.
“I see nothing ever changes among the rank and vile,” said Suewyn smirking.
“How droll,” replied Pax, “maybe we should open a book on you next.”
“Now you are having a laugh,” replied Sue, “I only date Senior Officers, and never Dogs!”
“Typical office girl all cheeky grin, and no follow up!” said Pax.
“What about you Anna ever considered getting deep down, and dirty with a Sapper?” questioned Pete with a wink.
“I don’t think that would settle too well with my Commander,” said the RJL Administrator.
“Damn, out ranked again,” said Pete, “which force?”
“AF Corporate Security,” explained Anna, knowing immediately she was in for a ribbing.
“Holy Argnu she is bouncing on the lap of the local Sheriff! I bet he even wears his boots in bed,” said Pete, “girl you could do so much better than that!”
“A foolish comment from a fool under this Commanders jurisdiction,” said Pax, “besides almost all high up Corporate hounds were once - something else! Just wait till you are forced to retire!”
“Mister kick it - to see if it is explosive - will only be retiring to heaven,” said Cole mocking Pete.
“Only ever did that once, and we all knew it was a dud,” complained Pete.
“You’re the dud you Argnu’s rectum. If you have to play kick about with suspect packages at least make sure the rest of the team are out of range,” said Cole, still obviously a little angry about this historic event.
“One lousy mistake,” said Pete again.
“In this business all it takes is one lousy mistake,” said Pax with sober feeling.
The next station morning Gregor punctually arrived outside Anna’s new office. As Anna had requested Gregor had been informed of her - bad news - by The Commander. Gregor’s former PA had made the decision to bring Gregor in mostly in the hope of building a bridge (not between herself and her former boss, but between Gregor, and Carl). Of course the AFC 4 Administrator was not alone - Gregor was rarely ever alone now - two ArgonForge, and two of Sven’s Grey Blade Marine Argon Navy bodyguards accompanied him. Luckily Gregor deposited the Navy Marines in the Hallway.
Ravn let Gregor straight in deeming it politic not to search the jittery - Lord and Master of the Station - despite being uncomfortable at the lapse, and itching to do so! The now familiar AF guards were left in reception eyeballing Sue, and Ravn who returned this scrutiny with no less devotion. Gregor let himself in to the main office area expecting to find Anna there alone. Instead there was no sign of his former employee only four unknowns, and one known crowding the space. Two Argons in black station suits lying down at rest on top of bedrolls, two others standing guard with holstered weapons all had RJL patches. A fifth figure was examining a blinking Main Line Computer system. The machine enquiry looked more like an idle fancy to wile away a moment than meaningful purposeful curiosity. Gregor recognised Lt. Constable Elaen although to his surprise she was out of uniform, and obviously off duty!
“Administrator, Anna is expecting you in her inner room,” said Elaen with a smile.
With a nod of acknowledgement Gregor went toward the final door that slipped automatically open. Anna was resting on a comfortable looking sofa one that seemingly converted into her bed.
“Welcome to my humble office, and home Gregor,” Anna said coolly.
“Delighted to be here Anna,” replied Gregor sensing this was to be an informal formal meeting, “I only wish it was under less harrowing circumstances. I see you have lost none of your efficiency. I expected these premises to be only marginally furnished. You have no idea how much I miss your attention to the details.”
“I am blessed with many friends willing to go that extra distance. Please have a seat would you like something to drink?” asked Anna.
“A little Ice water perhaps. I have been speaking at some length, and find my mouth is dry,” said Gregor, “however, more importantly how can I help you Anna?”
“I’m not sure Gregor. All I know is this is your station, and it seemed important to have your cooperation, and awareness that further unpleasantness of some sort might ensue,” noted Anna.
Gracefully the former PA moved over to collect a glass, and fill it with ice water from a small wall mounted dispenser.
“You know I was advised not to see you Anna. I was told you might have been compromised, even potentially try to hold a knife to my throat,” said Gregor.
“Yet you came here anyway,” said Anna handing him the drink.
“I have to establish my credentials as a willing partner rather than a tool,” noted Gregor before sipping delicately.
“A partner?” asked the former PA.
“Between you and me I have been approached about running for the Senate,” said Gregor, “I can tell you it came as something of a shock!”
“Congratulations,” returned Anna trying to fit this new information into the puzzle.
“Thank you! Do you think this attack upon your family is linked to the Treason Trial?” Gregor asked.
“That is the assumption many are working under,” answered Anna surprising herself with what was almost a breach of security.
Anna realised with a start that deep down inside she believed the Core Test was more of less over. Either dead in the water because the projects security was compromised beyond redemption, or more or less as complete a study as could be expected under the current ongoing conditions. It was in Febr’s, and Fay’s hands now; this overly interactive farce was not what she had signed up for.
Assumption, thought Gregor, if he knew Anna as well as he believed he did - she was telling him she doubted this line of enquiry! The fact that she didn’t offer up another reason was also interesting in itself! What was still hidden from his own perception?
“The timing seems less than accidental,” said Gregor.
“I wish I understood that,” said Anna, “either somebody wants publicity or they are using this spectacle as a cover to infiltrate AFC 4,” Anna had a crazy epiphany, “I think you need to be very careful Gregor. What do you think the effect would be for a faction if its newly unveiled senatorial candidate was assassinated?”
“What?” asked Gregor a look of horror on his face, “are you serious?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired, and jumping at shadows,” noted Anna, “maybe it is this countdown to the Trial, all these Marines waiting for something to shoot, and myself waiting for a ransom call. I just feel that something bad is going to happen, something unexpected. Gregor, I keep thinking I should have heard from these kidnappers by now - everybody else thinks so too! We can’t afford to hold to, too many assumptions - we need to be ready for anything - and make use of those we believe we can show even limited trust! Maybe this whole thing has nothing to do with the Treason Trial as such. Maybe this is all about ArgonForge, and the Military, who watches the watchmen Gregor, all I’m saying is be careful - be aware of who you expose your back to! Over the next few days mix your protection, don’t rely on any single source! Not Navy, not ArgonForge, not anyone, wear a jacket, and arm yourself too!”
Well though Gregor if Anna was compromised that was some strange advice! The AFC 4 Administrator wondered was it conceivable that Sven Hale was raising him up just so he could cut him down? How useful would be a martyr to Sven’s noble cause? Gregor was pretty sure that would be a sure fired way to win a seat for the next ticket! The Forges steersman could feel his own heart pounding away in his chest. Damn if Anna was playing him she was doing a great job. Gregor wished he knew whom he trusted, still mixing up his protection at least made good sense no matter what was going on. How could such a sensible measure work against him? Well it might demonstrate a lack of trust in both Hale, and the Navy, could Anna be trying to divide, and conquer. If only he could read the true or false intent behind the jade green eyes.
Tur was vectoring in on his base flying a Perseus Sentinel from the meet on the Paranid Trade Station when he decided to rename the Anarchy Port. In a flash of inspiration Tur Ryn christened his new domain ‘Purgatory’. In his mind the new label seemed to fit perfectly, well he couldn’t just keep calling it the Anarchy Port or the Pirate Base - lest it became confused with other Pirate Outposts. The base was now unique, and deserved a singular name. Once the Arch fallen Angel had docked along with his protection squad he headed off to the red lit Bone Garden to inform a gathering of his dark host.
It was funny that the stored memories held that place almost in dread, but Bane when he had been Jorac had no recall of meeting his grand daughter there or being killed. The copy of himself that was downloaded into Tur had been made after leaving Freedom yet several cycles before the event of Jorac’s demise. This gap in his(?) existence was a constant reminder of his artificial nature, and felt like an itch he couldn’t scratch!
Maybe frequenting the Bone Garden was nonetheless an act of bravado. Despite having no real memories Bane as Tur Ryn had been blessed or cursed with imaginings that led to dreams of the events he had heard about. The exploding head that destroyed Kerry’s eye, and disfigured her beautiful face, a fountain of blood showering down around, and upon the table, the headless corpse slowly slumping back down upon its seat. Now it was almost as if the dream in turn had birthed an impossible memory recalling all these events that he in fact he had never seen, events that happened after he was copied! It was almost like the death of Bane Jorac was haunting Bane Tur Ryn - oddly the idea amused rather than frightened him!
Sometime later his news disseminated, and his orders given Tur was sitting with Jess.
“So my Devil Lover why are you hunting Boron Transports now?” asked Jess.
“I want some hostages,” explained Tur Ryn, “wait and see this is going to be good.”
“Mysterious as ever,” replied Jess, “you know you have changed. I don’t know you seem more mature, less impulsive, and more I don’t know… distant.”
“I have a lot on my mind,” said Tur laughing, “Sometimes you have to evolve or be destroyed. When I was an Argon I did Argon things, now I am The Nights Dark Angel,” he snorted, “what would you have me do?”
“I don’t know but later I’m sure I can think of something!” said Jess with a giggle.
An irrational compulsion flowed over Tur to stop that giggle by drawing his slug thrower, and emptying the entire magazine into the female Argon’s eye, the same one Kerry had lost! It seemed unfair that this piece of flesh should go unpunished while his grand daughter had suffered so. It would be a senseless act, one that would give his torment little release, but the non-event still played out in his imagination like a prelude to murder. Somewhere in some other Universe Tur was sure Jess had just died, and Tur Ryn had fallen just that little bit more.
Tur sighed, “How goes the continued analysis of the micro sensor data?” he asked.
“I think it is starting to come together at least in the less well trafficked areas. You were right it was a question of calibrating from actual standard records in each carefully plotted sub region. I think we might need even more processing power though, perhaps enough Main Line units each one can work like an individual hub for even smaller but significant segment, this division should also make the system more secure, I have picked out a suite of active anti intrusion monitors, and solid firewalls to operate between these units,” explained Jess.
It sounded good but Bane found himself looking at Jess, and thinking of Kerry. John Flyn, John Flyn why did that name bother him so much, JF - Jon Flint? Could the old Argon have survived being marooned? No, it was impossible the smuggler trickster would be how old now… too old unless?
Faith could have seen an advantage in preserving the old felon or he could have gone into cold storage for a bit. JF had known / worked with - disappointed - and then suffered at Banes hands. What if JF had been downloaded by Faith? Damn that female, why couldn’t she just let it go? Bane had stolen the technology, and killed Faith once when she pursued him, it hadn’t been personal, it was just business! Unfortunately females took everything personally - Faith had turned it into a never-ending vendetta. In the beginning Bane never would have harmed families of an enemy that would have been beneath his dignity. Bane had not been like the Pirates today - kidnapping children - belonging to industrialists for a quick profit. Such actions before his long fall would have offended his innate sense of honour.
The Hunt had killed his daughter and forced his grand daughter to be raised in a butchers yard. Trapped in Aladna Hill he had become Kerry’s Guardian Angel but the sun from her bright young face that light (the single beam capable of illuminating his soul) had cast a long, long shadow, and commencing Banes rise, and fall - the birth of a hell spawned Legend! Now JF had stolen Kerry away that was hardly an accident! Faith reborn, and or Flyn must have expected him if he survived to follow the thread, to recognise the barely hidden name - to start digging through the old associations to what another trap? Did they believe love alone - would make of Bane - such a fool, no he had played the fool once, and once was enough!
Faith was playing with fire, as far as Tur Ryn was concerned, all restraints were off. They would all burn - well enough - how many, and for how long would depend on when, and how Kerry was reclaimed; whether or not Kerry could be made whole again! Would they torture Kerry for information, or just endeavour to fill her head with half truth, and abominable lies?
“You are lost in thought my Dark One,” said Jess.
“I was just wondering how long it would take to install the floodable cells. Even if it means delaying the motion sensors - search through our inventory - I will require the best Boron translation software we have linked up to the aquatic sound speakers and camera monitors. I want to know everything our guests let slip among themselves. I want an operation mounted around the clock everything is to be recorded,” said Tur.
“What will the team be looking for?” asked Jess.
“Gossip but also personal stuff - relationships - I want handles to grip, and buttons to push,” said Tur smiling like a fiend - everything that goes around comes around - Faith had hardened his heart, so now the innocents must suffer.
Jess hoped her lover knew what he was doing. Personnel Transports were usually off limits - going all out to kill or capture citizens - tended to cause a an unholy stink with the respective races government, and navy. It was one reason why the Split were so despised by the other races their piracy of people for slaves. Of course she knew Tur was taking measures to conceal his involvement in this new action, but it still worried her. In a way the female Fallen Angel felt sorry for these yet to be captured floaters, Jess suspected these Boron disconnected except by race from Tur’s vendetta were in for a very hard time.
Jess hadn’t become a pirate because of any xenophobia; she had nothing against any of the other races beyond a reasonable distaste for their alien nature. In fact the female Argons own gripe rested with the Argon authorities. The way the Federations economic system raised up a few but casually used up or crushed the majority. Jess considered herself something of an economic refugee - one escaping the restrictions of her social class. Although she also had reasons for despising the hypocrisy of so called Argon Justice.
Still without doubt the female Pirate knew some part of her was now wedded to the thrill of her new lifestyle. Jess had become corrupted by the joy of combat, and danger as much as any financial benefit or supposed redress for past wrongs. Even committing rapine upon the system she so despised sometimes seemed like a distant motivation to the simple excitement of the moment - Jess suspected all Pirates were addicted to something - in a way this fall from her original cleaner purpose depressed her.
While the Fallen Angel had escaped deprivation, and Argon hypocrisy she was in many respects just another parasite on the society she loathed, another aspect of the problem. It was impossible to delude herself that her actions were in any manner part of a worthwhile solution. Then again what place in this voids harsh reality supported such simplistic childlike dreams!
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 60 – Purgatory / Sympathy With The Devil
They say nothing lasts forever, given how Anna felt at the moment she hoped the axiom was valid. In the end the RJL Administrator was forced to give in, and pull out the injector again. Obviously Anna mused she was getting just a little too old for all night stupidities. As much as everything was in hand Anna was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on any single task. Instead Professor A settled for hovering around giving the occasional order, or bit of advice.
With four security guards plus Ravn, Elaen, Sue, and herself the private office space felt very claustrophobic. One unexpected difficulty was the simple logistical necessity of everybody’s toilet needs. It was either share her own facilities, or have everyone tripping off back, and fourth to the sections public, and or slightly better class pay per use amenities - neither of which was a perfect solution by any means. On the other hand the atmosphere had a strange almost adventuresome quality about it. Reminding Anna of less harrowing childish sleepovers, and more mature student days roughing it at some friends place on a futon following a party.
The four members of the latest arrivals (the Black Dog Marine Sappers) had a natural easy way with their casual decampment. Anna soon found herself joining the troops - all but the current designated sentry - in sharing a late spicy (ordered in lunch), an oddly homey undertaking among these disparate members of RJL. Alarmingly the food was served only after it was sniffed, and tested - for toxic or anaesthetising substances, something Anna wouldn’t have considered necessary. On reflection however even such seemingly OTT procedures did make good sense, certainly Anna could see little point in having guards if they were poisoned or drugged unconscious. Still such measures didn’t in any way stifle the Dogs good humour and the light hearted banter that soon ensued spread out to the other members of Anna’s crew.
A lot of the comments being flung around were mildly flirtatious, not surprising given the fact that the Dogs were all male, and had three female victims on hand. Luckily the infectious humour was - not too raw - perhaps because the Marines were also eating with their designated Chief. Anna was glad of the respite and found herself playing along - a little - well it helped to drown out some of the station cycles dourness. Elaen was also enjoying herself. It was obvious to Anna that Elaen was winding her partner up (in revenge for his earlier huffiness, over her unexpected inclusion in the venture). The normally easy going Ravn was suffering a degree of open consternation, and was unusually straight faced. Finally Ravn gave in and decided to play along, but immediately suffered from foot in mouth disease - stating that he knew he should have pursued Shimoo instead of Elaen! The comment saw Elaen storm out to reception with a face like rolling thunder.
“Damnation,” cursed Ravn, “I didn’t mean… Paranidia I’m in the dog house now,” he continued before grabbing some spicy ribs, and chasing after his partner.
“Ouch! So who is this Shimoo then?” asked Pax.
“Trouble that is no longer on station, and a name best - forgot about - around that pair,” said Anna nodding toward the closed reception door.
“Nothing like a female that’s trouble,” said Pete with an evil grin.
“What like Caitlin?” Pax asked laughing out loud.
“Not funny,” replied Pete, “Kitty’s not a female she’s a wild beast.”
“No Kitty is female all right, your just not Argon enough to tame her!” said Cole.
“Anytime you feel lucky you can join the pool Mister,” replied Pete.
“I’m not the one who did all that boasting back at the Barn,” noted Cole.
“Do you always bet on your relationships?” Anna asked.
“On relationships no, on Kitty all the time,” explained Pax, “I swear she is half Split, and thrice as mean.”
“It’s not polite to speak ill of the afflicted,” commented Pete pulling a face.
“I see nothing ever changes among the rank and vile,” said Suewyn smirking.
“How droll,” replied Pax, “maybe we should open a book on you next.”
“Now you are having a laugh,” replied Sue, “I only date Senior Officers, and never Dogs!”
“Typical office girl all cheeky grin, and no follow up!” said Pax.
“What about you Anna ever considered getting deep down, and dirty with a Sapper?” questioned Pete with a wink.
“I don’t think that would settle too well with my Commander,” said the RJL Administrator.
“Damn, out ranked again,” said Pete, “which force?”
“AF Corporate Security,” explained Anna, knowing immediately she was in for a ribbing.
“Holy Argnu she is bouncing on the lap of the local Sheriff! I bet he even wears his boots in bed,” said Pete, “girl you could do so much better than that!”
“A foolish comment from a fool under this Commanders jurisdiction,” said Pax, “besides almost all high up Corporate hounds were once - something else! Just wait till you are forced to retire!”
“Mister kick it - to see if it is explosive - will only be retiring to heaven,” said Cole mocking Pete.
“Only ever did that once, and we all knew it was a dud,” complained Pete.
“You’re the dud you Argnu’s rectum. If you have to play kick about with suspect packages at least make sure the rest of the team are out of range,” said Cole, still obviously a little angry about this historic event.
“One lousy mistake,” said Pete again.
“In this business all it takes is one lousy mistake,” said Pax with sober feeling.
The next station morning Gregor punctually arrived outside Anna’s new office. As Anna had requested Gregor had been informed of her - bad news - by The Commander. Gregor’s former PA had made the decision to bring Gregor in mostly in the hope of building a bridge (not between herself and her former boss, but between Gregor, and Carl). Of course the AFC 4 Administrator was not alone - Gregor was rarely ever alone now - two ArgonForge, and two of Sven’s Grey Blade Marine Argon Navy bodyguards accompanied him. Luckily Gregor deposited the Navy Marines in the Hallway.
Ravn let Gregor straight in deeming it politic not to search the jittery - Lord and Master of the Station - despite being uncomfortable at the lapse, and itching to do so! The now familiar AF guards were left in reception eyeballing Sue, and Ravn who returned this scrutiny with no less devotion. Gregor let himself in to the main office area expecting to find Anna there alone. Instead there was no sign of his former employee only four unknowns, and one known crowding the space. Two Argons in black station suits lying down at rest on top of bedrolls, two others standing guard with holstered weapons all had RJL patches. A fifth figure was examining a blinking Main Line Computer system. The machine enquiry looked more like an idle fancy to wile away a moment than meaningful purposeful curiosity. Gregor recognised Lt. Constable Elaen although to his surprise she was out of uniform, and obviously off duty!
“Administrator, Anna is expecting you in her inner room,” said Elaen with a smile.
With a nod of acknowledgement Gregor went toward the final door that slipped automatically open. Anna was resting on a comfortable looking sofa one that seemingly converted into her bed.
“Welcome to my humble office, and home Gregor,” Anna said coolly.
“Delighted to be here Anna,” replied Gregor sensing this was to be an informal formal meeting, “I only wish it was under less harrowing circumstances. I see you have lost none of your efficiency. I expected these premises to be only marginally furnished. You have no idea how much I miss your attention to the details.”
“I am blessed with many friends willing to go that extra distance. Please have a seat would you like something to drink?” asked Anna.
“A little Ice water perhaps. I have been speaking at some length, and find my mouth is dry,” said Gregor, “however, more importantly how can I help you Anna?”
“I’m not sure Gregor. All I know is this is your station, and it seemed important to have your cooperation, and awareness that further unpleasantness of some sort might ensue,” noted Anna.
Gracefully the former PA moved over to collect a glass, and fill it with ice water from a small wall mounted dispenser.
“You know I was advised not to see you Anna. I was told you might have been compromised, even potentially try to hold a knife to my throat,” said Gregor.
“Yet you came here anyway,” said Anna handing him the drink.
“I have to establish my credentials as a willing partner rather than a tool,” noted Gregor before sipping delicately.
“A partner?” asked the former PA.
“Between you and me I have been approached about running for the Senate,” said Gregor, “I can tell you it came as something of a shock!”
“Congratulations,” returned Anna trying to fit this new information into the puzzle.
“Thank you! Do you think this attack upon your family is linked to the Treason Trial?” Gregor asked.
“That is the assumption many are working under,” answered Anna surprising herself with what was almost a breach of security.
Anna realised with a start that deep down inside she believed the Core Test was more of less over. Either dead in the water because the projects security was compromised beyond redemption, or more or less as complete a study as could be expected under the current ongoing conditions. It was in Febr’s, and Fay’s hands now; this overly interactive farce was not what she had signed up for.
Assumption, thought Gregor, if he knew Anna as well as he believed he did - she was telling him she doubted this line of enquiry! The fact that she didn’t offer up another reason was also interesting in itself! What was still hidden from his own perception?
“The timing seems less than accidental,” said Gregor.
“I wish I understood that,” said Anna, “either somebody wants publicity or they are using this spectacle as a cover to infiltrate AFC 4,” Anna had a crazy epiphany, “I think you need to be very careful Gregor. What do you think the effect would be for a faction if its newly unveiled senatorial candidate was assassinated?”
“What?” asked Gregor a look of horror on his face, “are you serious?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired, and jumping at shadows,” noted Anna, “maybe it is this countdown to the Trial, all these Marines waiting for something to shoot, and myself waiting for a ransom call. I just feel that something bad is going to happen, something unexpected. Gregor, I keep thinking I should have heard from these kidnappers by now - everybody else thinks so too! We can’t afford to hold to, too many assumptions - we need to be ready for anything - and make use of those we believe we can show even limited trust! Maybe this whole thing has nothing to do with the Treason Trial as such. Maybe this is all about ArgonForge, and the Military, who watches the watchmen Gregor, all I’m saying is be careful - be aware of who you expose your back to! Over the next few days mix your protection, don’t rely on any single source! Not Navy, not ArgonForge, not anyone, wear a jacket, and arm yourself too!”
Well though Gregor if Anna was compromised that was some strange advice! The AFC 4 Administrator wondered was it conceivable that Sven Hale was raising him up just so he could cut him down? How useful would be a martyr to Sven’s noble cause? Gregor was pretty sure that would be a sure fired way to win a seat for the next ticket! The Forges steersman could feel his own heart pounding away in his chest. Damn if Anna was playing him she was doing a great job. Gregor wished he knew whom he trusted, still mixing up his protection at least made good sense no matter what was going on. How could such a sensible measure work against him? Well it might demonstrate a lack of trust in both Hale, and the Navy, could Anna be trying to divide, and conquer. If only he could read the true or false intent behind the jade green eyes.
Tur was vectoring in on his base flying a Perseus Sentinel from the meet on the Paranid Trade Station when he decided to rename the Anarchy Port. In a flash of inspiration Tur Ryn christened his new domain ‘Purgatory’. In his mind the new label seemed to fit perfectly, well he couldn’t just keep calling it the Anarchy Port or the Pirate Base - lest it became confused with other Pirate Outposts. The base was now unique, and deserved a singular name. Once the Arch fallen Angel had docked along with his protection squad he headed off to the red lit Bone Garden to inform a gathering of his dark host.
It was funny that the stored memories held that place almost in dread, but Bane when he had been Jorac had no recall of meeting his grand daughter there or being killed. The copy of himself that was downloaded into Tur had been made after leaving Freedom yet several cycles before the event of Jorac’s demise. This gap in his(?) existence was a constant reminder of his artificial nature, and felt like an itch he couldn’t scratch!
Maybe frequenting the Bone Garden was nonetheless an act of bravado. Despite having no real memories Bane as Tur Ryn had been blessed or cursed with imaginings that led to dreams of the events he had heard about. The exploding head that destroyed Kerry’s eye, and disfigured her beautiful face, a fountain of blood showering down around, and upon the table, the headless corpse slowly slumping back down upon its seat. Now it was almost as if the dream in turn had birthed an impossible memory recalling all these events that he in fact he had never seen, events that happened after he was copied! It was almost like the death of Bane Jorac was haunting Bane Tur Ryn - oddly the idea amused rather than frightened him!
Sometime later his news disseminated, and his orders given Tur was sitting with Jess.
“So my Devil Lover why are you hunting Boron Transports now?” asked Jess.
“I want some hostages,” explained Tur Ryn, “wait and see this is going to be good.”
“Mysterious as ever,” replied Jess, “you know you have changed. I don’t know you seem more mature, less impulsive, and more I don’t know… distant.”
“I have a lot on my mind,” said Tur laughing, “Sometimes you have to evolve or be destroyed. When I was an Argon I did Argon things, now I am The Nights Dark Angel,” he snorted, “what would you have me do?”
“I don’t know but later I’m sure I can think of something!” said Jess with a giggle.
An irrational compulsion flowed over Tur to stop that giggle by drawing his slug thrower, and emptying the entire magazine into the female Argon’s eye, the same one Kerry had lost! It seemed unfair that this piece of flesh should go unpunished while his grand daughter had suffered so. It would be a senseless act, one that would give his torment little release, but the non-event still played out in his imagination like a prelude to murder. Somewhere in some other Universe Tur was sure Jess had just died, and Tur Ryn had fallen just that little bit more.
Tur sighed, “How goes the continued analysis of the micro sensor data?” he asked.
“I think it is starting to come together at least in the less well trafficked areas. You were right it was a question of calibrating from actual standard records in each carefully plotted sub region. I think we might need even more processing power though, perhaps enough Main Line units each one can work like an individual hub for even smaller but significant segment, this division should also make the system more secure, I have picked out a suite of active anti intrusion monitors, and solid firewalls to operate between these units,” explained Jess.
It sounded good but Bane found himself looking at Jess, and thinking of Kerry. John Flyn, John Flyn why did that name bother him so much, JF - Jon Flint? Could the old Argon have survived being marooned? No, it was impossible the smuggler trickster would be how old now… too old unless?
Faith could have seen an advantage in preserving the old felon or he could have gone into cold storage for a bit. JF had known / worked with - disappointed - and then suffered at Banes hands. What if JF had been downloaded by Faith? Damn that female, why couldn’t she just let it go? Bane had stolen the technology, and killed Faith once when she pursued him, it hadn’t been personal, it was just business! Unfortunately females took everything personally - Faith had turned it into a never-ending vendetta. In the beginning Bane never would have harmed families of an enemy that would have been beneath his dignity. Bane had not been like the Pirates today - kidnapping children - belonging to industrialists for a quick profit. Such actions before his long fall would have offended his innate sense of honour.
The Hunt had killed his daughter and forced his grand daughter to be raised in a butchers yard. Trapped in Aladna Hill he had become Kerry’s Guardian Angel but the sun from her bright young face that light (the single beam capable of illuminating his soul) had cast a long, long shadow, and commencing Banes rise, and fall - the birth of a hell spawned Legend! Now JF had stolen Kerry away that was hardly an accident! Faith reborn, and or Flyn must have expected him if he survived to follow the thread, to recognise the barely hidden name - to start digging through the old associations to what another trap? Did they believe love alone - would make of Bane - such a fool, no he had played the fool once, and once was enough!
Faith was playing with fire, as far as Tur Ryn was concerned, all restraints were off. They would all burn - well enough - how many, and for how long would depend on when, and how Kerry was reclaimed; whether or not Kerry could be made whole again! Would they torture Kerry for information, or just endeavour to fill her head with half truth, and abominable lies?
“You are lost in thought my Dark One,” said Jess.
“I was just wondering how long it would take to install the floodable cells. Even if it means delaying the motion sensors - search through our inventory - I will require the best Boron translation software we have linked up to the aquatic sound speakers and camera monitors. I want to know everything our guests let slip among themselves. I want an operation mounted around the clock everything is to be recorded,” said Tur.
“What will the team be looking for?” asked Jess.
“Gossip but also personal stuff - relationships - I want handles to grip, and buttons to push,” said Tur smiling like a fiend - everything that goes around comes around - Faith had hardened his heart, so now the innocents must suffer.
Jess hoped her lover knew what he was doing. Personnel Transports were usually off limits - going all out to kill or capture citizens - tended to cause a an unholy stink with the respective races government, and navy. It was one reason why the Split were so despised by the other races their piracy of people for slaves. Of course she knew Tur was taking measures to conceal his involvement in this new action, but it still worried her. In a way the female Fallen Angel felt sorry for these yet to be captured floaters, Jess suspected these Boron disconnected except by race from Tur’s vendetta were in for a very hard time.
Jess hadn’t become a pirate because of any xenophobia; she had nothing against any of the other races beyond a reasonable distaste for their alien nature. In fact the female Argons own gripe rested with the Argon authorities. The way the Federations economic system raised up a few but casually used up or crushed the majority. Jess considered herself something of an economic refugee - one escaping the restrictions of her social class. Although she also had reasons for despising the hypocrisy of so called Argon Justice.
Still without doubt the female Pirate knew some part of her was now wedded to the thrill of her new lifestyle. Jess had become corrupted by the joy of combat, and danger as much as any financial benefit or supposed redress for past wrongs. Even committing rapine upon the system she so despised sometimes seemed like a distant motivation to the simple excitement of the moment - Jess suspected all Pirates were addicted to something - in a way this fall from her original cleaner purpose depressed her.
While the Fallen Angel had escaped deprivation, and Argon hypocrisy she was in many respects just another parasite on the society she loathed, another aspect of the problem. It was impossible to delude herself that her actions were in any manner part of a worthwhile solution. Then again what place in this voids harsh reality supported such simplistic childlike dreams!
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Sun, 27. Apr 08, 10:56, edited 2 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 61 – Trial Run
Garrin followed along behind Chin his current RJL security guard minder. It had been a while since he had used the station departures Goner Transport Device, and it felt a little odd to arrive this way onboard the ‘Reaper alpha’. Ra was the first of two Reaper Jump Liner Transports currently locked on to the Weapon Forges exterior Docking Clamps. Internal docking space on AFC 4 was getting a little cramped. After the standard light show, and brief initial disorientation of the weird wormhole derived movement G looked around. Even after a quick glance Garrin was suitably impressed with the second hand Expresses interior fittings.
Reaper alpha’s fixtures, and structure while hardly in pristine condition were certainly well within acceptable standards, everything in the ship looked clean, and in good working order. Frankly on first impressions Garrin was - very happy - with the second hand purchase, how Anna managed these tasks so quickly was beyond his comprehension, and expectations. G had considered all work on the Jump Liner business to be on hold during the Administrator’s dire family crisis - he certainly wouldn’t have held any lapse in the previous schedule against his business partner! Wonderfully the seat back view screens displayed the RJL logo complete with unhappy stylised - hooded scythe wielders, Garrin felt like a big kid at Present Giving.
The transports current pilot apparently a temporary hire was absent, already on station enjoying some downtime R&R. Checking over the purchase gave Garrin the perfect excuse / opportunity to take one of the Personnel Transports out for a trial run. Well how could he resist even if it was just a big Argon people bus - ‘Reaper alpha’ was still something new - and kind of belonged to him! While G had been idly looking about, Chin had been rushing about doing a proper inspection - like a Teladi on uppers, gun in one hand, hand scanner in the other. The guard insisted on checking out all of the rest of the ship, and proclaiming it was safe, and secure. During this G was supposed to stay more or less in position - much to his initial frustration as a pilot Garrin couldn’t wait to get into the cockpit, and do the business.
Finally Chin returned, “Seems clean to me,” he said appearing to relax only a little.
“Right then,” replied Garrin a little sarcastically; well G knew a waste of effort when he saw one, “off to the cockpit. Where would you like to go today sir?”
“How about a quick jump to AP,” said Chin smiling, “that’s a nice safe sector for a trial run!”
“You people really are Paranoid,” noted Garrin, “I was thinking at least the Wall, that way I could pick up a load of energy cells for later use.”
“The Wall’s… fine too. Anyway its your boat, lets just avoid known Pirate, and Xenon sectors eh!” said Chin.
“No problem,” agreed Garrin throwing himself into the pilot seat and strapping in, “Want to play co-pilot, or idle passenger?”
“I’ve got a licence to fly this bird,” said Chin, “I’ll co if you’re happy with that?”
“Go for it,” returned Garrin.
“You ever flown one of these brutes before,” asked Chin.
“Only on the simulator,” said G laughing.
Undocking Garrin proceeded to strafe straight down before angling the beasts nose to forward vector away. The Personnel Transport felt incredibly sluggish, and heavy compared to his Discoverer class scout ship, yet was still more responsive that he would have imagined. The ship obviously had a well optimised rudder.
“Nice. Just watch the added momentum on manoeuvres, and the rear end - when you dip using the fly by wire - its easy to forget you have all that ship tipping up behind you,” said Chin, “a degree of heavy handling is built in to encourage TP pilots to make smooth manoeuvres - passengers tend to prefer those even in artificial gravity - it makes them feel safe.”
“I think you missed your calling you should have been an instructor”, noted Garrin.
Otherwise Garrin just chuckled at the side seat driving, and hit the accelerator pedal, and boost control regardless - well they didn’t have any passengers right now! The visual space directly ahead looked empty, and the Gravidar showed no immediate obstacles so Garrin was happy to race away at maximum thrust. With a clear vector G automatically commenced plotting the jump coordinate in via the HUD Navigation map (forgetting he had a co-pilot for just such a task). Back in the seat of a ship (even this cumbersome Transport) Garrin as ever realised just how much he had missed this feeling - just through being on the station for a few cycles.
Garrin always felt more alive in space, also more in control, he found himself thinking about that encounter with the power armoured marine guards outside the Troop Transport (his courage had turned to jelly), but with a ship around him Garrin never really felt totally overwhelmed or outclassed. In a ship Garrin always felt he was in control of his situation - even if the odds were poor - it felt enabling. The sound of the computer counting the percentages of the jump engines charge was like symphonic music to the couriers’ ears. When the screens went blank G sighed, and sunk back into the soft white padded Argnu leather it was therapeutic.
Hurtling down wormholes even those you were protected from seeing remained almost an orgasmic thrill. G loved Goner Technology even if he found the Priests themselves long-winded and exceptionally dull! It always amazed Garrin that the same unworldly Goner preachy idiots were also exceptional technicians, and research developers. To Garrin religion and technology were not harmonious, but rather confrontational like development, and the natural ecology on new founded planet colonies. Still maybe at the high end of the spectrum it might be different, after all their was something quite religious about space flight, and space travel was inherently technological - unless you were a space fly!
Bursting out of the East Gate in the Wall as soon as the screens cleared G swung the ship into a free spot accelerated, and boosted away. It never paid to hang around gates on arrival, not unless you wanted some other ship mating uncomfortably with your rear! In a Transport you might survive this in a scout ship such a shunt was likely to be short lived, and fatal, G was very happy to power along at the ships maximum restricted speed, which felt rather slow in comparison to his Grim Reaper.
“How about finding us some cheap cells then Chin,” said Garrin.
“Ok. Right hmmm, no best buys software on board, guess I’ll have to do it the hard way,” said Chin skimming through the stations stats one at a time, “Delta has the biggest surplus at the moment but has a Vulture super freighter in bound, and about to dock. I’d go for Beta it’s almost as well stocked, but there is no immediate competition.”
“Ok sounds like a good call,” said Garrin, “Solar Power Plant Beta it is.”
On AFC 4 Anna could almost have been happy if her old mentor wasn’t still unconscious possibly brain dead, her mother not kidnapped possibly murdered, a persistent toxin not lurking in her body, and the covert ‘Hive access Core’ test project not seemingly stalled. Still it was amazing how resilient an Argon could momentarily overlook even the most outrageous misfortunes - so long as a single ray of light breaks through the overwhelming storm. Sue was proving to be just such a ray. Anna’s PA was a real benison having organised a series of mini organisational RJL miracles. The female ‘Legion of the Damned’ PA reminded Anna of herself under better conditions.
Anna realised as RJL Administrator she hadn’t really been doing too bad after all either. The stimulants had finally kicked in, or she had simply got a late second wind in the fall of afternoon / early evening. Anna had certainly given Gregor something to think about and perhaps nudged him into considering at least a marginal alliance with both her, and Carl. Carl was pretty much on board already. Anna was even feeling happier about Elaen. It made good sense after all - to follow her own advice - and mix up her own protection, and support as much as physically possible.
Now Anna was working on a series of Promotional Pieces for RJL. Editing together CGI, various stock visuals, carefully generated text along with scripted recordings of Garrin, and herself. The advertising work was all being done via software she was running on her new Main Line computer ‘Slab’ which she had linked to the built in interactive screen in her inner office / bedroom. Anna found it easier to lose herself in this creative project than any other item of business she had so far undertaken this cycle. Despite all her woes Anna found stitching the cheesy advertising pieces together rather amusing, and uplifting, small mercies.
One promo for example started with various misfortunes: Pirate, Xenon, and Khaak attacks on Transports with a computer generated just perceivable shadowy figure hanging over these atrocities a hooded skull faced, scythe wielding monstrosity with stars in its empty eye sockets, then it asked the question, “Do you need to travel but are afraid of the perils? Do you have business, friends or family on the far side of a deadly Pirate or Xenon sector?” [Short sharp clips of rampaging Pirates and Xenon] “We have the solution to your justified trepidation, and sensible caution.”
“Travel with us, and you can skip over the stealer of souls” [inserted image of a Reaper Jump Liner vanishing with a flare from both a Khaak Cluster, and deaths shadowy outreaching clutch, to appear safe and sound in a well patrolled sector] “Jump direct from one safe haven to the next.”
[Black screen with corporate logo and an image of the Grim Reaper in all his sinister malice disappearing behind the growing image of an approaching Reaper Jump Liner CGI electric wormhole swirls circling the ship. Text below: There is no need to fear with Reaper Jump Liners!]
Another promo was a short interview of Garrin by Anna. The piece began by discussing Garrin’s career as a fast courier riding the ‘Grim Reaper’ on dangerous runs.
“So Garrin tell us what it is really like to make a living in the space lanes?” asked Anna.
“Dangerous,” replied G, “that was why I called my courier the ‘Grim Reaper’ as a constant reminder to vigilance,” he continued, “in a fast scout ship I’ve seen it all, and been chased by most of it too!” [Images subtitled (actual ship camera footage) of various incidents including a spectacularly avoided - attempted ambush - by one pirate perpetrated on the ‘Grim Reaper’ in Elena’s Fortune including: the highlighted launch of a nuclear hornet missile by the protagonist] “Pirates, Khaak, Xenon even legitimate Pilots gone lunatic on space weed all the usual suspects! It was my first hand understanding of all these increasing hazards within the grids that encouraged me to found a new Universe wide venture.”
“That was some show Garrin, do you think travel out there is getting more lethal?” asked Anna.
‘Trust me’, said G, “I’ve passed the wreckage,” [more images this time of desolation free floating crates, debris, hulks, frozen corpses] “as you can see it isn‘t pretty! I knew there had to be a better - safer - way! Transports can’t outrun or out manoeuvre these ill’s - unlike my scout ship - and patrols can’t be everywhere,” [Image of a Titan idly drifting along in a Core Sector]. “Then after fitting a Goner Jump Drive to my M5 I realised something important; a well piloted, well optimised, jump equipped Transport could easily avoid almost any threat.” [Images of a Reaper Jump Liner jumping out of various peaceful sectors, and arriving in other tranquil regions] “In fact this very cycle with proper route planning I would even - guarantee - passenger safety! From this concept of protected - truly express travel - direct from one well patrolled sector to another was born Reaper Jump Liners.”
“So why hasn’t this obviously sensible solution been implemented before?” asked Anna.
“Really I don’t know, a lack of imagination, false economics,” said G, “Jump Drives don’t come cheap, and eat energy cells. Plus JD’s have only recently become readily available to friends of the Goner Temple. The way I see it though basic travel - unlike dangerous courier runs - shouldn’t be about dicing with death. In this new age travel need not be a test of passenger endurance. Going for a cruise is one thing necessary journeys quite another. So what if using a Goner Jump Drive costs the fare paying passenger a small premium - time is money too - you also have to ask the question what is my life worth? My advice is this” [camera moving in stages to a close up] “save time, save inconvenience, save your family from worry, and yourself from mortal risk! Come jump the Reaper, you know it makes sense!” said Garrin smiling.
[Camera pulls back then focuses on Anna].
“Well there you have it,” said the cool female in an RJL patched suit, “space is dangerous if you want to check the statistics visit our Inter Link site at itl//idontfearthereaper.argoncorp. If you want to laugh in the bony face of adversity travel with us!”
[Black screen with the corporate logo featuring an image of the Grim Reaper in all his glory. Text below reads: Reaper Jump Liners - the only transport corporation that guarantees - not to ferry you to the other side!]
Elsewhere on AFC 4 Gregor left his four guards hovering near the Central Security Desk, and popped into Carl’s booth to speak with the ArgonForge Corporate Police Commander in private. Carl darkened his door, and welcomed his sometime nemesis into his private sanctum with a brisk nod of his head.
“How can I help you Administrator?” asked Carl.
“Maybe the question is how can we help each other,” stated Gregor, “I went to see Anna earlier so I thought I would have a word before you finished your shift.”
“Well,” said the AFC 4 Police Commander, “do you still think Anna has been got at by nefarious entities?”
“I don’t know, I don’t think so, but I no longer think I know as much as I thought I did either. Anna has challenged my current perceptions?” said Gregor.
“You too,” replied Carl shaking his head, “I have had to let go of a lot of my certainties lately,” he confessed, “now I am just playing one card at a time.”
Gregor laughed, “well at least we may both have the Assassin of Hearts among our hand.”
“Perhaps,” said Carl, “however this is the strangest game I’ve ever played.”
“I know what you mean. I feel like somebody hidden keeps stealing, and substituting the deck,” noted Gregor, “Carl, perhaps I have been something of a fool. I have decided to accept some extra protection from AFC 4 security if that can be arranged, just up until, and for the duration of the Treason Trial,” he said, “it is of course - officially - just a political move to ensure everyone is duly represented on camera,” he explained.
“Of course,” said Carl, “Central AF / local AFC 4, and AN all nice and cosy. I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Has Anna poached another member of your team? I noticed Elaen over at her office?” asked Gregor wondering what that was about.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said the Carl, “still she might just be hanging around Ravn. Elaen has been a bit run down - too many consecutive shifts - so I let her have a little leave, what she does with it is her own business.”
“Indeed,” said Gregor obviously less than convinced, “What do you think of Admiral Hale?” asked the AFC 4 Administrator out of the black.
“Can’t say I really know him - personally - although I have heard plenty about the Argon some of it unsubstantiated. Of course when he came on station I did ask a few questions, and rummaged through the normal data files,” noted Carl.
“So what could you tell me of his public resume privately?” asked Gregor.
“Hmmm, they call him The Oracle because Admiral Sven Hale is involved in plotting / predicting inter race relations policy he often reports to the Senate. The rumour is that the Admiral is a shrewd operator ANI not just Argon Navy with a deep insight into wide trends. Hale likes his luxuries but is not a victim of his vices - he controls them, while intensely loyal to the Argon cause but also personally ambitious, quick to anger but not normally rash of action - although very slow to forgive. The Admiral is an anthropologist, and is said to be a student of Argon psychology as well,” explained the Commander.
“I’ve also heard he hides a cruel brutal streak beneath an air of civility, that he is a bad Argon to cross! It is rumoured very widely indeed that Sven controls the overall purse strings / budget on many of the Argon Federations official bounties and maybe some unofficial ones too, this has given rise to links with Assassinations. As I’ve said Hale is deeply involved in Argon race relations policy - negative, and positive - and thus diplomacy odd thing is: for a diplomatic type I heard Sven has a serious dislike of Goner Priests - a distaste so strong he often finds it a difficult one to hide, even in public!” noted Carl.
“Maybe he hates long windy speeches that don’t seem to go anywhere,” said Gregor with a laugh!
Still on AFC 4 another Argon was taking care of business in this instance an anchor Argon.
“So this very corridor is one of many suspected routes pundits believe the accused will take,” said Avon Vellin rattling off an enthusiastically loud report, “Rud will be flanked by Marine, and civilian Argon Forge guards. The prisoner will be led shackled, and dejected. An animal going to market - only this sentient beast will be well aware it is being sized up for a gruesome Slaughter! No sane commentator doubts the result of this show trial! Rud Chakr will walk cold hard metal corridors to what is a mere formality: a judicial peepshow! The only question here is… will the terrorists that so poorly used this (vulnerable young clerk) seek even greater infamy by attempting to rescue their pawn. Will the traitors dare to strike under the full glare of this media spotlight?”
“The Argon Navy is ready. I have been told the Grey Guardians of our civilisation are taking no chances. An entire Armada circles this system - hungry for prey - waiting to pour down angry star fires from the red hot maw of roaring canons, to feast upon the guilty soul. War however is fought on more than one front, the Insurrectionists, the Pirates, the Rebels, and the rejecting self destroyed dispossessed all avoid the honest - direct - challenge of fair confrontation. Our foes wage a secret war. Wily snakes these criminals are skilled at slipping between any gaps in our glorious defences for no - decent security measure - can be total, not without destroying our hard won freedoms, and these evildoers these robbers of our self-respect know this only too well! The enemies of our Federation wish to win not territory, but to corrupt the hearts, and minds of the weak willed - the foolish and the under educated - among our very own populace,” yelled out the reporter.
“The Argon Navy know well the terrible loss of respect and dignity the rape of an unjust rescue might produce!” continued Avon, “A few commentators even believe - on camera - an attempt may be made to destroy this entire forge complex, a valuable war asset against all our foes including the dreaded, and unreasoning Khaak… BOOM!” he waved his arms wide. A look of shock and horror plain upon this obviously emphatic Argons (concerned / frightened) face, “an atrocity of gross defiance. Thousands slain including many important dignitaries - even perhaps an Admiral of the fleet, intolerable!”
“Trust me,” noted Vellin, “this reporter - despite an awareness of his responsibilities - is getting special rates of pay just to be here, and has made sure his life insurance is up to date. AFC 4 has become the front line. VNN is doling out - danger money - to its brave selfless volunteers! No one is safe on AFC 4. Nonetheless, you can be assured the Virtual News Network will be on link to report whatever happens. Justice or catastrophe we are the face of free speech. Avon Vellin on AFC 4 for VNN - making the News every cycle! End. Ok camera control cut and paste that to digital dispatch, I’m going for a well earned coffee.”
That’s it said Lend to himself after eavesdropping in on the VNN reporter. Moving away he made a promise to himself in the morning he was getting off this stranded boat along with his wife and children - at least until this steaming Argnu’s mess was over - nobody was paying extra danger money to the AFC 4 Dockworkers, and what good was insurance payouts when you were dead! Damn they could even sack him if they liked. Many stations needed experienced crate jockeys, and most were nice fully civilian operations in boring peaceful sectors. Lend knew he would miss the easy fuel, but he could live with it - at least he would be alive to pine for the luxury! This dangerous mission wasn’t what he agreed to when he signed on the computer pad screen.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 61 – Trial Run
Garrin followed along behind Chin his current RJL security guard minder. It had been a while since he had used the station departures Goner Transport Device, and it felt a little odd to arrive this way onboard the ‘Reaper alpha’. Ra was the first of two Reaper Jump Liner Transports currently locked on to the Weapon Forges exterior Docking Clamps. Internal docking space on AFC 4 was getting a little cramped. After the standard light show, and brief initial disorientation of the weird wormhole derived movement G looked around. Even after a quick glance Garrin was suitably impressed with the second hand Expresses interior fittings.
Reaper alpha’s fixtures, and structure while hardly in pristine condition were certainly well within acceptable standards, everything in the ship looked clean, and in good working order. Frankly on first impressions Garrin was - very happy - with the second hand purchase, how Anna managed these tasks so quickly was beyond his comprehension, and expectations. G had considered all work on the Jump Liner business to be on hold during the Administrator’s dire family crisis - he certainly wouldn’t have held any lapse in the previous schedule against his business partner! Wonderfully the seat back view screens displayed the RJL logo complete with unhappy stylised - hooded scythe wielders, Garrin felt like a big kid at Present Giving.
The transports current pilot apparently a temporary hire was absent, already on station enjoying some downtime R&R. Checking over the purchase gave Garrin the perfect excuse / opportunity to take one of the Personnel Transports out for a trial run. Well how could he resist even if it was just a big Argon people bus - ‘Reaper alpha’ was still something new - and kind of belonged to him! While G had been idly looking about, Chin had been rushing about doing a proper inspection - like a Teladi on uppers, gun in one hand, hand scanner in the other. The guard insisted on checking out all of the rest of the ship, and proclaiming it was safe, and secure. During this G was supposed to stay more or less in position - much to his initial frustration as a pilot Garrin couldn’t wait to get into the cockpit, and do the business.
Finally Chin returned, “Seems clean to me,” he said appearing to relax only a little.
“Right then,” replied Garrin a little sarcastically; well G knew a waste of effort when he saw one, “off to the cockpit. Where would you like to go today sir?”
“How about a quick jump to AP,” said Chin smiling, “that’s a nice safe sector for a trial run!”
“You people really are Paranoid,” noted Garrin, “I was thinking at least the Wall, that way I could pick up a load of energy cells for later use.”
“The Wall’s… fine too. Anyway its your boat, lets just avoid known Pirate, and Xenon sectors eh!” said Chin.
“No problem,” agreed Garrin throwing himself into the pilot seat and strapping in, “Want to play co-pilot, or idle passenger?”
“I’ve got a licence to fly this bird,” said Chin, “I’ll co if you’re happy with that?”
“Go for it,” returned Garrin.
“You ever flown one of these brutes before,” asked Chin.
“Only on the simulator,” said G laughing.
Undocking Garrin proceeded to strafe straight down before angling the beasts nose to forward vector away. The Personnel Transport felt incredibly sluggish, and heavy compared to his Discoverer class scout ship, yet was still more responsive that he would have imagined. The ship obviously had a well optimised rudder.
“Nice. Just watch the added momentum on manoeuvres, and the rear end - when you dip using the fly by wire - its easy to forget you have all that ship tipping up behind you,” said Chin, “a degree of heavy handling is built in to encourage TP pilots to make smooth manoeuvres - passengers tend to prefer those even in artificial gravity - it makes them feel safe.”
“I think you missed your calling you should have been an instructor”, noted Garrin.
Otherwise Garrin just chuckled at the side seat driving, and hit the accelerator pedal, and boost control regardless - well they didn’t have any passengers right now! The visual space directly ahead looked empty, and the Gravidar showed no immediate obstacles so Garrin was happy to race away at maximum thrust. With a clear vector G automatically commenced plotting the jump coordinate in via the HUD Navigation map (forgetting he had a co-pilot for just such a task). Back in the seat of a ship (even this cumbersome Transport) Garrin as ever realised just how much he had missed this feeling - just through being on the station for a few cycles.
Garrin always felt more alive in space, also more in control, he found himself thinking about that encounter with the power armoured marine guards outside the Troop Transport (his courage had turned to jelly), but with a ship around him Garrin never really felt totally overwhelmed or outclassed. In a ship Garrin always felt he was in control of his situation - even if the odds were poor - it felt enabling. The sound of the computer counting the percentages of the jump engines charge was like symphonic music to the couriers’ ears. When the screens went blank G sighed, and sunk back into the soft white padded Argnu leather it was therapeutic.
Hurtling down wormholes even those you were protected from seeing remained almost an orgasmic thrill. G loved Goner Technology even if he found the Priests themselves long-winded and exceptionally dull! It always amazed Garrin that the same unworldly Goner preachy idiots were also exceptional technicians, and research developers. To Garrin religion and technology were not harmonious, but rather confrontational like development, and the natural ecology on new founded planet colonies. Still maybe at the high end of the spectrum it might be different, after all their was something quite religious about space flight, and space travel was inherently technological - unless you were a space fly!
Bursting out of the East Gate in the Wall as soon as the screens cleared G swung the ship into a free spot accelerated, and boosted away. It never paid to hang around gates on arrival, not unless you wanted some other ship mating uncomfortably with your rear! In a Transport you might survive this in a scout ship such a shunt was likely to be short lived, and fatal, G was very happy to power along at the ships maximum restricted speed, which felt rather slow in comparison to his Grim Reaper.
“How about finding us some cheap cells then Chin,” said Garrin.
“Ok. Right hmmm, no best buys software on board, guess I’ll have to do it the hard way,” said Chin skimming through the stations stats one at a time, “Delta has the biggest surplus at the moment but has a Vulture super freighter in bound, and about to dock. I’d go for Beta it’s almost as well stocked, but there is no immediate competition.”
“Ok sounds like a good call,” said Garrin, “Solar Power Plant Beta it is.”
On AFC 4 Anna could almost have been happy if her old mentor wasn’t still unconscious possibly brain dead, her mother not kidnapped possibly murdered, a persistent toxin not lurking in her body, and the covert ‘Hive access Core’ test project not seemingly stalled. Still it was amazing how resilient an Argon could momentarily overlook even the most outrageous misfortunes - so long as a single ray of light breaks through the overwhelming storm. Sue was proving to be just such a ray. Anna’s PA was a real benison having organised a series of mini organisational RJL miracles. The female ‘Legion of the Damned’ PA reminded Anna of herself under better conditions.
Anna realised as RJL Administrator she hadn’t really been doing too bad after all either. The stimulants had finally kicked in, or she had simply got a late second wind in the fall of afternoon / early evening. Anna had certainly given Gregor something to think about and perhaps nudged him into considering at least a marginal alliance with both her, and Carl. Carl was pretty much on board already. Anna was even feeling happier about Elaen. It made good sense after all - to follow her own advice - and mix up her own protection, and support as much as physically possible.
Now Anna was working on a series of Promotional Pieces for RJL. Editing together CGI, various stock visuals, carefully generated text along with scripted recordings of Garrin, and herself. The advertising work was all being done via software she was running on her new Main Line computer ‘Slab’ which she had linked to the built in interactive screen in her inner office / bedroom. Anna found it easier to lose herself in this creative project than any other item of business she had so far undertaken this cycle. Despite all her woes Anna found stitching the cheesy advertising pieces together rather amusing, and uplifting, small mercies.
One promo for example started with various misfortunes: Pirate, Xenon, and Khaak attacks on Transports with a computer generated just perceivable shadowy figure hanging over these atrocities a hooded skull faced, scythe wielding monstrosity with stars in its empty eye sockets, then it asked the question, “Do you need to travel but are afraid of the perils? Do you have business, friends or family on the far side of a deadly Pirate or Xenon sector?” [Short sharp clips of rampaging Pirates and Xenon] “We have the solution to your justified trepidation, and sensible caution.”
“Travel with us, and you can skip over the stealer of souls” [inserted image of a Reaper Jump Liner vanishing with a flare from both a Khaak Cluster, and deaths shadowy outreaching clutch, to appear safe and sound in a well patrolled sector] “Jump direct from one safe haven to the next.”
[Black screen with corporate logo and an image of the Grim Reaper in all his sinister malice disappearing behind the growing image of an approaching Reaper Jump Liner CGI electric wormhole swirls circling the ship. Text below: There is no need to fear with Reaper Jump Liners!]
Another promo was a short interview of Garrin by Anna. The piece began by discussing Garrin’s career as a fast courier riding the ‘Grim Reaper’ on dangerous runs.
“So Garrin tell us what it is really like to make a living in the space lanes?” asked Anna.
“Dangerous,” replied G, “that was why I called my courier the ‘Grim Reaper’ as a constant reminder to vigilance,” he continued, “in a fast scout ship I’ve seen it all, and been chased by most of it too!” [Images subtitled (actual ship camera footage) of various incidents including a spectacularly avoided - attempted ambush - by one pirate perpetrated on the ‘Grim Reaper’ in Elena’s Fortune including: the highlighted launch of a nuclear hornet missile by the protagonist] “Pirates, Khaak, Xenon even legitimate Pilots gone lunatic on space weed all the usual suspects! It was my first hand understanding of all these increasing hazards within the grids that encouraged me to found a new Universe wide venture.”
“That was some show Garrin, do you think travel out there is getting more lethal?” asked Anna.
‘Trust me’, said G, “I’ve passed the wreckage,” [more images this time of desolation free floating crates, debris, hulks, frozen corpses] “as you can see it isn‘t pretty! I knew there had to be a better - safer - way! Transports can’t outrun or out manoeuvre these ill’s - unlike my scout ship - and patrols can’t be everywhere,” [Image of a Titan idly drifting along in a Core Sector]. “Then after fitting a Goner Jump Drive to my M5 I realised something important; a well piloted, well optimised, jump equipped Transport could easily avoid almost any threat.” [Images of a Reaper Jump Liner jumping out of various peaceful sectors, and arriving in other tranquil regions] “In fact this very cycle with proper route planning I would even - guarantee - passenger safety! From this concept of protected - truly express travel - direct from one well patrolled sector to another was born Reaper Jump Liners.”
“So why hasn’t this obviously sensible solution been implemented before?” asked Anna.
“Really I don’t know, a lack of imagination, false economics,” said G, “Jump Drives don’t come cheap, and eat energy cells. Plus JD’s have only recently become readily available to friends of the Goner Temple. The way I see it though basic travel - unlike dangerous courier runs - shouldn’t be about dicing with death. In this new age travel need not be a test of passenger endurance. Going for a cruise is one thing necessary journeys quite another. So what if using a Goner Jump Drive costs the fare paying passenger a small premium - time is money too - you also have to ask the question what is my life worth? My advice is this” [camera moving in stages to a close up] “save time, save inconvenience, save your family from worry, and yourself from mortal risk! Come jump the Reaper, you know it makes sense!” said Garrin smiling.
[Camera pulls back then focuses on Anna].
“Well there you have it,” said the cool female in an RJL patched suit, “space is dangerous if you want to check the statistics visit our Inter Link site at itl//idontfearthereaper.argoncorp. If you want to laugh in the bony face of adversity travel with us!”
[Black screen with the corporate logo featuring an image of the Grim Reaper in all his glory. Text below reads: Reaper Jump Liners - the only transport corporation that guarantees - not to ferry you to the other side!]
Elsewhere on AFC 4 Gregor left his four guards hovering near the Central Security Desk, and popped into Carl’s booth to speak with the ArgonForge Corporate Police Commander in private. Carl darkened his door, and welcomed his sometime nemesis into his private sanctum with a brisk nod of his head.
“How can I help you Administrator?” asked Carl.
“Maybe the question is how can we help each other,” stated Gregor, “I went to see Anna earlier so I thought I would have a word before you finished your shift.”
“Well,” said the AFC 4 Police Commander, “do you still think Anna has been got at by nefarious entities?”
“I don’t know, I don’t think so, but I no longer think I know as much as I thought I did either. Anna has challenged my current perceptions?” said Gregor.
“You too,” replied Carl shaking his head, “I have had to let go of a lot of my certainties lately,” he confessed, “now I am just playing one card at a time.”
Gregor laughed, “well at least we may both have the Assassin of Hearts among our hand.”
“Perhaps,” said Carl, “however this is the strangest game I’ve ever played.”
“I know what you mean. I feel like somebody hidden keeps stealing, and substituting the deck,” noted Gregor, “Carl, perhaps I have been something of a fool. I have decided to accept some extra protection from AFC 4 security if that can be arranged, just up until, and for the duration of the Treason Trial,” he said, “it is of course - officially - just a political move to ensure everyone is duly represented on camera,” he explained.
“Of course,” said Carl, “Central AF / local AFC 4, and AN all nice and cosy. I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Has Anna poached another member of your team? I noticed Elaen over at her office?” asked Gregor wondering what that was about.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said the Carl, “still she might just be hanging around Ravn. Elaen has been a bit run down - too many consecutive shifts - so I let her have a little leave, what she does with it is her own business.”
“Indeed,” said Gregor obviously less than convinced, “What do you think of Admiral Hale?” asked the AFC 4 Administrator out of the black.
“Can’t say I really know him - personally - although I have heard plenty about the Argon some of it unsubstantiated. Of course when he came on station I did ask a few questions, and rummaged through the normal data files,” noted Carl.
“So what could you tell me of his public resume privately?” asked Gregor.
“Hmmm, they call him The Oracle because Admiral Sven Hale is involved in plotting / predicting inter race relations policy he often reports to the Senate. The rumour is that the Admiral is a shrewd operator ANI not just Argon Navy with a deep insight into wide trends. Hale likes his luxuries but is not a victim of his vices - he controls them, while intensely loyal to the Argon cause but also personally ambitious, quick to anger but not normally rash of action - although very slow to forgive. The Admiral is an anthropologist, and is said to be a student of Argon psychology as well,” explained the Commander.
“I’ve also heard he hides a cruel brutal streak beneath an air of civility, that he is a bad Argon to cross! It is rumoured very widely indeed that Sven controls the overall purse strings / budget on many of the Argon Federations official bounties and maybe some unofficial ones too, this has given rise to links with Assassinations. As I’ve said Hale is deeply involved in Argon race relations policy - negative, and positive - and thus diplomacy odd thing is: for a diplomatic type I heard Sven has a serious dislike of Goner Priests - a distaste so strong he often finds it a difficult one to hide, even in public!” noted Carl.
“Maybe he hates long windy speeches that don’t seem to go anywhere,” said Gregor with a laugh!
Still on AFC 4 another Argon was taking care of business in this instance an anchor Argon.
“So this very corridor is one of many suspected routes pundits believe the accused will take,” said Avon Vellin rattling off an enthusiastically loud report, “Rud will be flanked by Marine, and civilian Argon Forge guards. The prisoner will be led shackled, and dejected. An animal going to market - only this sentient beast will be well aware it is being sized up for a gruesome Slaughter! No sane commentator doubts the result of this show trial! Rud Chakr will walk cold hard metal corridors to what is a mere formality: a judicial peepshow! The only question here is… will the terrorists that so poorly used this (vulnerable young clerk) seek even greater infamy by attempting to rescue their pawn. Will the traitors dare to strike under the full glare of this media spotlight?”
“The Argon Navy is ready. I have been told the Grey Guardians of our civilisation are taking no chances. An entire Armada circles this system - hungry for prey - waiting to pour down angry star fires from the red hot maw of roaring canons, to feast upon the guilty soul. War however is fought on more than one front, the Insurrectionists, the Pirates, the Rebels, and the rejecting self destroyed dispossessed all avoid the honest - direct - challenge of fair confrontation. Our foes wage a secret war. Wily snakes these criminals are skilled at slipping between any gaps in our glorious defences for no - decent security measure - can be total, not without destroying our hard won freedoms, and these evildoers these robbers of our self-respect know this only too well! The enemies of our Federation wish to win not territory, but to corrupt the hearts, and minds of the weak willed - the foolish and the under educated - among our very own populace,” yelled out the reporter.
“The Argon Navy know well the terrible loss of respect and dignity the rape of an unjust rescue might produce!” continued Avon, “A few commentators even believe - on camera - an attempt may be made to destroy this entire forge complex, a valuable war asset against all our foes including the dreaded, and unreasoning Khaak… BOOM!” he waved his arms wide. A look of shock and horror plain upon this obviously emphatic Argons (concerned / frightened) face, “an atrocity of gross defiance. Thousands slain including many important dignitaries - even perhaps an Admiral of the fleet, intolerable!”
“Trust me,” noted Vellin, “this reporter - despite an awareness of his responsibilities - is getting special rates of pay just to be here, and has made sure his life insurance is up to date. AFC 4 has become the front line. VNN is doling out - danger money - to its brave selfless volunteers! No one is safe on AFC 4. Nonetheless, you can be assured the Virtual News Network will be on link to report whatever happens. Justice or catastrophe we are the face of free speech. Avon Vellin on AFC 4 for VNN - making the News every cycle! End. Ok camera control cut and paste that to digital dispatch, I’m going for a well earned coffee.”
That’s it said Lend to himself after eavesdropping in on the VNN reporter. Moving away he made a promise to himself in the morning he was getting off this stranded boat along with his wife and children - at least until this steaming Argnu’s mess was over - nobody was paying extra danger money to the AFC 4 Dockworkers, and what good was insurance payouts when you were dead! Damn they could even sack him if they liked. Many stations needed experienced crate jockeys, and most were nice fully civilian operations in boring peaceful sectors. Lend knew he would miss the easy fuel, but he could live with it - at least he would be alive to pine for the luxury! This dangerous mission wasn’t what he agreed to when he signed on the computer pad screen.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Thu, 1. May 08, 13:21, edited 3 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 62 – Darkest Before The Storm
Anna lay in her bed finally asleep. It had taken a persistent stubborn degree of meditation to at long last relax. Anna had finally passed out wishing station cycles weren’t quite so circular! Earlier Anna, and her new life partner Carl had eaten another take away dinner, and had a long (if unsatisfying, and far from frank) conversation. Although the evening had started well (under the circumstances) it was soon obvious that neither the AFC 4 Police Commander nor herself were yet entirely comfortable alone with their relationship - at least not enough to ask the most difficult, and serious questions - not under these stressed conditions anyway!
In the end the meal became a little stiff overly quiet, polite, and formal affair. Anna for her own part still wasn’t sure she had any answers to give Carl - none she fully believed in anyway - which out of the black seemed to matter. In truth the RJL Administrator didn’t trust her own motivations something that greatly bothered her. After a few tumblers of space fuel - that hit hard - Anna felt too disconnected to act out only half felt sureties or downright deliberate deceits despite an up welling of physical desire - also possibly caused by the liquid.
In the end the Anna controlled the impulse convinced that she felt too tired, cynical, and jaded to enjoy any physical jockeying! Carl had left looking slightly confused somehow almost defeated, not Anna was sure as a result of failing to stay over in her bed, well not exactly anyway, but rather the consequence of neither of them being able to let go enough - on this occasion - to enable a sharing of their more personal hopes and fears. The big Commander continued to surprise Anna with his (often open) vulnerability unfortunately this only made her feel ever more unsure, troubled, and guilty about the relationships foundations.
Out in Anna’s main office area Ravn was sleeping when his former Commander departed while Elaen watched over her own lover with a half smile. Two of the RJL guards were also resting here Josh, and Cole having rotated with their fellows, the third Pete was awake and guarding the office the fourth Pax protecting reception while enjoying casually eyeballing Sue - who was doing her best to ignore the Black Dog. Anna’s PA was still hard at work scribbling on to a computer pad, and trawling through the Inter Link.
Everything finally seemed still, and restful to Elaen even the blinking lights on Slab seemed lazy, and half hearted as it ran through downtime system self-maintenance routines. For some reason Anna had yet to activate the machines voice, so it was a silent presence in the room. Sometime earlier before Anna, and Carl had retired into the inner chamber they had all enjoyed a preview of Anna’s promotional pieces, the RJL Administrators protectors acting as a test audience for the advertising material. Elaen had to admit she was impressed with the troubled females continued grace under pressure.
Seeing a smug (on screen) Garrin, and the shadowy CGI Grim Reaper had been bit of a damper on Elaen’s mood though. Funny Elaen realised when she had been volunteered she hadn’t really been thinking about Garrin being around a lot, only of Ravn being at risk! Had the scales finally tipped, if so why had Shimoo being mentioned bit so deep? Maybe it was the fantasy idea of Shimoo, and Ravn, rather than the historic reality of the Waitress, and Garrin that had really upset her, Elaen realised that she at least hoped that this was the case. Mostly the Lt. Constable had little reason to second-guess her emotions. Generally she liked to keep things simple for example: she had always been straight with her boyfriends, and didn’t believe in cheating or playing senseless games with others feelings. Elaen had in return for her own steadfastness always expected / demanded the same degree of courtesy, and decency from her partners. Garrin had not been the first Argon male ever to disappoint Elaen but his betrayal had cut the deepest.
Ravn had asked Elaen to wake him in a few station segments, but she had vowed in her own head to disobey, and let him sleep on a bit longer. Anna had explained that Ravn had been up all night using this to mitigate the Argon’s crass comment about Shimoo. Elaen thought it had been good of Anna to worry about her feelings, her relationship with Rav, given the RJL Administrators much more serious woes (this consideration more than - the words themselves - had helped to put the matter in perspective). Elaen was now more or less over it. In fact if anything El felt a little guilty in turn about being perhaps over sensitive, and unprofessional. Sometimes working with relative strangers was easier than working with friends.
Tebbin was back, and burst into Fays Troop Transport office slightly out of breath, “The Devil is out of the Box,” he said without any preamble, “Tur Ryn has been talking with the Paranid. It has to be Bane - from what I know - Tur despised the Nid with every fibre of his being, that Pirate would never have the ability to broker a deal.”
“Damn, are you sure, this soon? I really thought we would have many more cycles yet! What else is he doing?” asked Fay.
“I wish I had more details,” replied Teb informally flopping into a seat, “even finding out about the meet on the Trade Station was little more than a lucky break, or a deliberate leak by the Paranid, or Tur, or both? We just don’t have any proper coverage in Paranid Space. Statistical data from our end suggests the beginning of a possible widening of the Fallen Angels campaign - freighter hits - in various Paranid border sectors not just Priests Pity. I’ve been trying to hire some Worms to do a little more useful digging on the inside but no one is willing, not even outcasts - the word is out - messing with Tur Ryn will not be sanctioned by his holiness not at this time. Lets face it against non Paranid ‘not being sanctioned’ is double talk for ‘displeasing to’, and thus out of the question!”
“Once more you’re the harbinger of bad tidings,” noted Fay unfairly, “so what do you know about Tur Ryns plans at the moment?”
“Playing homemaker on the Anarchy Port apparently it has been renamed Purgatory!” said Tebbin, “That much is now common knowledge - so I can’t claim, any extra kudos points for that either.”
“How appropriate, you know finally blowing that fekker into nothingness would almost be worth the commencement of a war… almost!” said the Commander in Chief of the Legion of the Damned moving her head from side to side in an attempt to relieve a suddenly stiff neck.
“If only it was that easy, as you know the Devil is more durable than a fell disease!” complained Tebbin, “even if you were willing to risk it chances are the Fallen One will just pop up again somewhere else like the cursed contagion he is!”
“As if I need to be reminded of that. Still we do have Kerry,” reminded Fay.
“You shouldn’t have sent Jon or Arke on that operation. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that operation at all. Fay I have come to the conclusion that the Jorac hit was a total disaster! By holding Kerry you have the hell spawned many headed beast by the snake scaled tail. I can’t believe you gave the Devils kin the Incentive,” remarked Tebbin perhaps a bit too boldly, “it is keeping me awake at night just thinking about it between that, and that god cursed genius Febr being involved!”
“You’re getting way too excitable in your old age Tebbin, I didn’t’,” laughed Fay, “Kerry just thinks I did - I wouldn’t pay to damage our only worthwhile hostage - in any way that matters! I like to keep my options open.”
“Thank Sonra for your devious soul,” exclaimed Teb smiling for the first time since entering the office, “we can still do a deal.”
“A deal?” questioned Fay, “you can’t be serious - deal with the Devil himself!”
“Fek Fay what else is a hostage for. We have Kerry, and Bane whatever his face is free from any containment, and nesting in Paranid Space with a whole rookery of dark winged brethren,” said Teb. “Look Fay you may have bested Bane before, or thought you did, but this is a whole new situation! Aladna Hill will be like a cursed Goner Prayer Meeting compared with the way that fekkers wrath will descend upon us - if we don’t give him that little lass back! Bane can just sit there and put out the call as Jorac’s legitimate heir, and many will come. What if something happens to Kerry in our custody, Paranidia we have already just about put her eye out! Like I said thank Sonra you didn’t give her the ‘Argon Incentive’ Boron’s tentacles; I was beginning to worry I thought you where starting to lose it - yourself - do you really want to end up a copy of a copy!”
“That’s quite enough - Soldier!” said Fay, “Don’t push it too far! You’re the one losing it not me, Bane is still just another Argon Pirate if a rather unusual one!”
“I’m sorry sir, but I’ve read the reports when it comes to Kerry… it is just…” He shook his head, “not the same! Talk to anyone who was on The Hill. Jon has a personal issue with the Devil - that’s why in my opinion - he foolishly brought that girl along. The moron must think he can have a private little feud with Bane, and get away with it, but Jon was only on the periphery of Aladna, and on the edge of Bane! What the Devil did to him for his little indiscretion was nothing - a mere trifle!” said Teb.
“I won’t give away one of the best cards I possess,” said the Commander in Chief.
“I don’t believe you can win this war Fay, at most if you’re lucky a few more skirmishes, maybe a battle or two but not the war! You’re risking everything on a personal vendetta - just like Jon - you’re much smarter than that Fay. I know you are smarter than Jon. Sooner or later you will have to let this go, or lose heavily! You’re good, and you have far more resources, but Bane is something else a force of nature you ask anyone that has met him in any incarnation!” explained Teb, “besides Fay you have more important duties to oversee.”
“You sound like the Arch High Fallen Angels publicist!” said Fay angrily.
“I hope I sound like a friend,” retorted Teb, “we go back a long way listen Faith, I knew you before, and I know you now, you don’t have to do this! You are what you are, you don’t have to prove anything: not to me, not to the Devil, not even to Febr, and certainly not to yourself!”
“You really don’t know what it is like Teb. Something is missing; a person really isn’t just a record of memory. Something is lost, left behind, some vital spark,” said Fay now looking more despondent than angry.
“Don’t delude yourself, we are just the sum of our experiences. Take away the input, and interactions, and all that is left is just meat! To state the obvious this insecurity is in your mind,” Teb tapped his own head, “You are suffering from the cultural conditioning applied to the original Faith - call it religion or just a system of belief. The pretty lies we tell ourselves because we are afraid of the longest dark! Of all people Fay you don’t need that crutch anymore. Anyway I knew Faith, and I know you Fay you are not quite the same person. Fay or Faith Two if you prefer is not guilty of the sins committed by Faith One - if you must believe in such nonsense - what was done to the original (Pirate) Fay even if she was under a death sentence was atrocious but you the reborn Faith didn’t do it,” said Teb, “Faith One made those arrangements she did that dirty deed!”
“You’ll never understand,” said Fay, “the Fay I deposed is still in here in the now passive digital store,” Fay tapped her own skull, “a whole life of memory. In many ways easier to access than my own fully downloaded self (Fay’s life unlike my own memories are not wedded to the less neat, and precise organic brain tissue). I know Fay better than I know myself. Fay wasn’t an evil person she was just the product of the horrid events of her life: an occasional weakness, a few poor decisions. I denied her even the decency of a clean death, I’m like some horrendous ghoul feasting on her undying flesh, a mind, and body thieving parasite!”
“What is done is done,” stated Teb, “Fay this private war with the Devil - or trying to save the universe from itself - won’t grant you absolution! These things are just distractions excuses to abscond from standing up to your own inner turmoil. Go on like this and even if you succeed it will destroy you. Listen to me Fay you need real help: therapy - counselling - you have to let Faith One go, embrace what, and who - you - really are. Like everyone else Fay you are a mixed bag of experiences (good, and bad) existent in a world of uncertainty - just like all the other billions of Argons. When you accept this you will be set free from this self destructive self loathing!”
Fay knew much of what Teb said was good firm common sense, but logical argument just didn’t seem to apply to her dilemma. It was like the difference between description, and actual feeling. Fay would be content to operate under cold smooth logic - if only she could - unfortunately some cycles: the harder she grasped at logic, the more it seemed to slip between her delicate fingers!
“Well if the lecture is over,” said Fay, “have you any other - real intelligence to impart or are you just wasting my time with rabid fears, and Devil worship?”
“Given that you have Kerry, I thought you would consider the fact that Bane is loose reason enough for my visit. How are matters on AFC 4?” asked Teb.
“Complicated. We still don’t have anything from the kidnapper not a whisper!” said Fay.
“Something is very wrong with that,” noted Tebbin, “if it is Sven what is he up to!”
“I spoke to Admiral Hale he more or less confessed to the kidnapping, and defied all my poorly veiled threats. The Oracle is feeling sublimely confident, all I can do is hope he is over confident,” noted Fay, “I brought Danna in, but I’ve heard nothing back beyond an acknowledgement of the message packages receipt.”
“Nothing unusual in that - Ban likes to keep off the Gravidar scanner until it is too late,” said Teb.
“I suppose that is true,” said Fay, “to make matters worse though have you seen some of the recent VNN media coverage? I suppose you wouldn’t have, being too busy! The crazy sensationalists are literally daring anti government terrorists to have a go at the station! Some space crazy loon, or idealistic band of freedom fighters is bound to take up this VNN challenge - for the potential notoriety alone!”
“Well that is more a Federal Argon Policing matter as far as I’m concerned,” said Tebbin.
“Well FAP have been very noticeable in their absence they seem content to let the Navy handle this show - at least for the moment!” replied Fay somebody wasn‘t stupid.
“Useless Discoverer scanner jockeys ought to be at least keeping an eye out for the usual suspects. Any sign of APPIS on AFC 4 yet?” asked Teb.
“A few of Poetyr’s boys are on station, but they have drawn a blank. Seems somehow the last movements of Hal Beyn aka Febr were missed by AFC 4 camera. Then again as I told one of the investigators a Mark Thrace myself: the old Argon is a genius and probably had some technological wizardry on his side like a top-flight hack! It is only a matter of time till they knock on Anna’s door though, somebody has done a real poor in depth (security) data search not to put those two figures together,” said Fay hardly able to believe it.
“More likely - they know already - and are just biding their time watching,” stated Teb.
“I’ve been thinking that myself. Odd thing is they haven’t put her under direct surveillance - we would have noticed, or requested any cooperation, or done any data searches in the AFC 4 systems on Anna. Then again maybe they know it was an inside ANI spring and rightly don’t trust any of us,” said Fay.
In Space in Elena’s Fortune the self proclaimed Lone Wolf: anti government Pirate Anarchist, and Freedom Fighter ‘Ishchi’ turned away from the screen and another inflammatory report.
“Fekkin Federal Argon media prostitutes,” Ishchi cursed, “I’ll give them all something to talk about and a use for their insurance too,” he continued smiling, “I’ll open up Pandora’s box. The scum will have a new topic of conversation for a decade or so, the self righteous son’s of a Split Slave Masters leavings!”
For two cycles now Ischi had been flying away from the centre of ‘Elena’s Fortune’. The gate grid was now just like another star - a bright point of light - to the naked eye Ishchi’s transport trailed on followed by his Discoverer Scout ship on automatic. Visual confirmation didn’t matter as he had the stations navigation position plotted, and fixed he even had a well placed satellite to assist, and would set a very precise straight line vector when the time came.
The adjustments in the end hadn’t really been much of a technical achievement, and were really just a crude fix. The hard bit had been the long trial, and error to figure out the totality of the cursed technologies multiple, and diverse in built limiters. In the end the Lone Wolfs solution hadn’t been a question of extra tunings or hacking the software. It had required a complete cut off switch for the fly by wire including a means of physically disabling cutting power to the automatic and emergency breaking thrusters.
The engines would still have destroyed themselves after a period of time - the final protection being hardened into the engines physical nature - making them incapable of long continuous burns, however, by accelerating in spurts Ishchi could avoid this meltdown, and still turn the old Small Transport into a deadly relativistic missile that would hit AFC 4 like the wrath of a rather powerful if lesser God, and - with the right run - at astronomical speeds! Not even the complexes massive shielding would be able to take the energy of that hit, no explosives would be required the sheer mass and momentum would be more than enough to do the required business. It would also make monkeys out of the navy - as far as Ishchi knew nothing in their arsenal had the ability to stop or intercept a target going that fast - except by accident.
Of course when the control cut off switch came he would be running the ship on his own tiny command auto routine patched in via a simple installed bypass - a taped down computer pad of all things. It was basic but if the initial ships vector were aimed close enough all it should take would be a few computerised tiny nudges of the four-axis strafe drive thrusters for correction. Ishchi was surprised this sort of weapon had never been used before, or maybe it had, but was hushed up! As far as he could ascertain even if the ship utterly pan caked, and exploded on the massive shields of the station the sheer forward momentum would still overcome that defence, and punch the ships fragmented material including the force of its explosion on forward and probably right through the body of the station itself. Ishchi didn’t understand the underpinning mathematics (the physics) but the principle was basically no different to firing a high speed - soft slug - right through another more solid material: something which worked fine, and that was all he needed to know!
Ishchi’s obsession with relativistic speed had grown out a typical piratical obsession with getting an edge on his foes. Ishchi had started out adding extra tunings to engines then realised that it was only the engines themselves that really created the current (obscene to his mind) false limitations put upon space flight. The limits puzzled, and annoyed the rebel beyond any reasonable measure. The final straw came when Ishchi captured his first Khaak M5 scout ship. To his shock and dismay he discovered these outsider aliens limited their engines too - in almost exactly the same manner! This made no sense to the Pirate. Ishchi had once believed the Races had got together and imposed safe speed limits on space transport within the Grids, however, the Khaak were outside that loop, so who could have imposed limiters upon their travel speeds? They certainly didn’t buy their engines from Terracorp!
Ishchi decided it had to be the so-called benevolent builders of the Gate Grid itself the enigmatic Ancients. These godlike creatures were obviously despotic overlord control freaks! Not only were they ruling the universe from invisible thrones but also the Ancients had obviously infiltrated all the races governments in some horrendously subtle manner. Everyone in the Grid was - horror upon horror - just a toy, a pet in an alien zoo! The idea became an obsession, and for a time Ishchi had a complete mental breakdown.
Afterwards when the Pirate recovered, and escaped from the tiny Asylum in Three Worlds - where he was being held - Ishchi became determined to expose the evil plot once, and for all. Ishchi’s current plan was as much a practical demonstration of the false restrictions put upon the Grid Dwellers acceleration, as it was an action against the oppressive infiltrated Argon regime! It was a tiny act of defiance, but Ishchi was determined to rattle his cage. The destruction or at the least severe damage of AFC 4 combined with his own broadcast of responsibility, and explanation - would finally show the governments up for what they were - mere pawns of the Grids true Masters!
Jollo Gardna the Argon Forge Vice President was in flight at the back of a Jump capable Discoverer courier. He wasn’t really looking forward to arriving on AFC 4 he preferred to do most of his business on Argon Prime, however his ultimate boss had given him no choice.
Jollo was to speak with Gregor, and do a bit of face-to-face digging. Ban was obviously worried about the way things were going on that station - too much was happening now behind the blanket cover of Corporate Blocks - one known limitation of the alien ‘Hive access Core’ technology it could only use systems that had power in them already. The Blocks physically turned off all microphones, and cameras, and thus deadheaded the Hive. Of course Blocks were very overt means of counter surveillance, and their usage was normally restricted to specific corporate spaces on station. Using a Corporate Block was also a clear give away you had something to hide.
Jollo hoped Gregor still failed to appreciate the degree of collusion between himself, and Danna. Jollo was rarely ever activated officially, but always passed on interesting bytes of information to Ban out of mere habit. Danna as the head of Argon Intelligence usually seemed content with this, and only ever contacted Jollo officially as if speaking to the VP of ArgonForge. It was a good arrangement indeed so good sometimes Jollo forgot Ban was his original employer, and he had even had a raging row with him once. Well it was easy to think of Ban as just an old friend and sometime working associate besides Ban had a way about him.
Jollo believed he was sticking his head into the fire with this trip. The AF VP had been to his knowledge the first operative to draw Danna’s attention to the fact that Fay was becoming a little too desirous of technologies that were perhaps borderline rather than failed, and perhaps not as dangerous to the Grids balance as she would have others believe. Since this revelation Ban had been following the AF ‘Hive access Core’ research, and development with a rare degree of attention, between this fact and the news that Sven was meddling made Jollo exceptionally nervous. The VP wished he understood why ANI was so factional? Why did Ban put up with so many acts of defiance by these lieutenant’s no matter how able they were?
Jollo would have had these two individuals heads removed long ago - before they got so powerful and threatening - which was probably why he was a mere sleeper while Danna was the penultimate chief of Argon Intelligence.
Ban was Jollo guessed probably running on the old axiom: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Danna like so many before him using the oldest imperial policy of divide, and conquer both inside, and outside the agencies. Besides nothing BD did was ever quite as it seemed. Just like the Argon’s outward appearance as a slightly dithering old grandfather type. Often slow of speech with an overly easy and relaxed manner to his business - it was far too effortless to forget that behind the slight paunch and stretched Navy uniform and those emphatic eyes lurked a mind like a - steel trap - with teeth like nine-inch nails.
People just kept insisting to their detriment on underestimating that Argon. Maybe it was the stupid name Ban Danna really it had to be an affectation, no parent of the Danna clan would be so cruel would they? Or maybe even they had realised the curious benison of having a name that others would consider a joke!
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 62 – Darkest Before The Storm
Anna lay in her bed finally asleep. It had taken a persistent stubborn degree of meditation to at long last relax. Anna had finally passed out wishing station cycles weren’t quite so circular! Earlier Anna, and her new life partner Carl had eaten another take away dinner, and had a long (if unsatisfying, and far from frank) conversation. Although the evening had started well (under the circumstances) it was soon obvious that neither the AFC 4 Police Commander nor herself were yet entirely comfortable alone with their relationship - at least not enough to ask the most difficult, and serious questions - not under these stressed conditions anyway!
In the end the meal became a little stiff overly quiet, polite, and formal affair. Anna for her own part still wasn’t sure she had any answers to give Carl - none she fully believed in anyway - which out of the black seemed to matter. In truth the RJL Administrator didn’t trust her own motivations something that greatly bothered her. After a few tumblers of space fuel - that hit hard - Anna felt too disconnected to act out only half felt sureties or downright deliberate deceits despite an up welling of physical desire - also possibly caused by the liquid.
In the end the Anna controlled the impulse convinced that she felt too tired, cynical, and jaded to enjoy any physical jockeying! Carl had left looking slightly confused somehow almost defeated, not Anna was sure as a result of failing to stay over in her bed, well not exactly anyway, but rather the consequence of neither of them being able to let go enough - on this occasion - to enable a sharing of their more personal hopes and fears. The big Commander continued to surprise Anna with his (often open) vulnerability unfortunately this only made her feel ever more unsure, troubled, and guilty about the relationships foundations.
Out in Anna’s main office area Ravn was sleeping when his former Commander departed while Elaen watched over her own lover with a half smile. Two of the RJL guards were also resting here Josh, and Cole having rotated with their fellows, the third Pete was awake and guarding the office the fourth Pax protecting reception while enjoying casually eyeballing Sue - who was doing her best to ignore the Black Dog. Anna’s PA was still hard at work scribbling on to a computer pad, and trawling through the Inter Link.
Everything finally seemed still, and restful to Elaen even the blinking lights on Slab seemed lazy, and half hearted as it ran through downtime system self-maintenance routines. For some reason Anna had yet to activate the machines voice, so it was a silent presence in the room. Sometime earlier before Anna, and Carl had retired into the inner chamber they had all enjoyed a preview of Anna’s promotional pieces, the RJL Administrators protectors acting as a test audience for the advertising material. Elaen had to admit she was impressed with the troubled females continued grace under pressure.
Seeing a smug (on screen) Garrin, and the shadowy CGI Grim Reaper had been bit of a damper on Elaen’s mood though. Funny Elaen realised when she had been volunteered she hadn’t really been thinking about Garrin being around a lot, only of Ravn being at risk! Had the scales finally tipped, if so why had Shimoo being mentioned bit so deep? Maybe it was the fantasy idea of Shimoo, and Ravn, rather than the historic reality of the Waitress, and Garrin that had really upset her, Elaen realised that she at least hoped that this was the case. Mostly the Lt. Constable had little reason to second-guess her emotions. Generally she liked to keep things simple for example: she had always been straight with her boyfriends, and didn’t believe in cheating or playing senseless games with others feelings. Elaen had in return for her own steadfastness always expected / demanded the same degree of courtesy, and decency from her partners. Garrin had not been the first Argon male ever to disappoint Elaen but his betrayal had cut the deepest.
Ravn had asked Elaen to wake him in a few station segments, but she had vowed in her own head to disobey, and let him sleep on a bit longer. Anna had explained that Ravn had been up all night using this to mitigate the Argon’s crass comment about Shimoo. Elaen thought it had been good of Anna to worry about her feelings, her relationship with Rav, given the RJL Administrators much more serious woes (this consideration more than - the words themselves - had helped to put the matter in perspective). Elaen was now more or less over it. In fact if anything El felt a little guilty in turn about being perhaps over sensitive, and unprofessional. Sometimes working with relative strangers was easier than working with friends.
Tebbin was back, and burst into Fays Troop Transport office slightly out of breath, “The Devil is out of the Box,” he said without any preamble, “Tur Ryn has been talking with the Paranid. It has to be Bane - from what I know - Tur despised the Nid with every fibre of his being, that Pirate would never have the ability to broker a deal.”
“Damn, are you sure, this soon? I really thought we would have many more cycles yet! What else is he doing?” asked Fay.
“I wish I had more details,” replied Teb informally flopping into a seat, “even finding out about the meet on the Trade Station was little more than a lucky break, or a deliberate leak by the Paranid, or Tur, or both? We just don’t have any proper coverage in Paranid Space. Statistical data from our end suggests the beginning of a possible widening of the Fallen Angels campaign - freighter hits - in various Paranid border sectors not just Priests Pity. I’ve been trying to hire some Worms to do a little more useful digging on the inside but no one is willing, not even outcasts - the word is out - messing with Tur Ryn will not be sanctioned by his holiness not at this time. Lets face it against non Paranid ‘not being sanctioned’ is double talk for ‘displeasing to’, and thus out of the question!”
“Once more you’re the harbinger of bad tidings,” noted Fay unfairly, “so what do you know about Tur Ryns plans at the moment?”
“Playing homemaker on the Anarchy Port apparently it has been renamed Purgatory!” said Tebbin, “That much is now common knowledge - so I can’t claim, any extra kudos points for that either.”
“How appropriate, you know finally blowing that fekker into nothingness would almost be worth the commencement of a war… almost!” said the Commander in Chief of the Legion of the Damned moving her head from side to side in an attempt to relieve a suddenly stiff neck.
“If only it was that easy, as you know the Devil is more durable than a fell disease!” complained Tebbin, “even if you were willing to risk it chances are the Fallen One will just pop up again somewhere else like the cursed contagion he is!”
“As if I need to be reminded of that. Still we do have Kerry,” reminded Fay.
“You shouldn’t have sent Jon or Arke on that operation. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that operation at all. Fay I have come to the conclusion that the Jorac hit was a total disaster! By holding Kerry you have the hell spawned many headed beast by the snake scaled tail. I can’t believe you gave the Devils kin the Incentive,” remarked Tebbin perhaps a bit too boldly, “it is keeping me awake at night just thinking about it between that, and that god cursed genius Febr being involved!”
“You’re getting way too excitable in your old age Tebbin, I didn’t’,” laughed Fay, “Kerry just thinks I did - I wouldn’t pay to damage our only worthwhile hostage - in any way that matters! I like to keep my options open.”
“Thank Sonra for your devious soul,” exclaimed Teb smiling for the first time since entering the office, “we can still do a deal.”
“A deal?” questioned Fay, “you can’t be serious - deal with the Devil himself!”
“Fek Fay what else is a hostage for. We have Kerry, and Bane whatever his face is free from any containment, and nesting in Paranid Space with a whole rookery of dark winged brethren,” said Teb. “Look Fay you may have bested Bane before, or thought you did, but this is a whole new situation! Aladna Hill will be like a cursed Goner Prayer Meeting compared with the way that fekkers wrath will descend upon us - if we don’t give him that little lass back! Bane can just sit there and put out the call as Jorac’s legitimate heir, and many will come. What if something happens to Kerry in our custody, Paranidia we have already just about put her eye out! Like I said thank Sonra you didn’t give her the ‘Argon Incentive’ Boron’s tentacles; I was beginning to worry I thought you where starting to lose it - yourself - do you really want to end up a copy of a copy!”
“That’s quite enough - Soldier!” said Fay, “Don’t push it too far! You’re the one losing it not me, Bane is still just another Argon Pirate if a rather unusual one!”
“I’m sorry sir, but I’ve read the reports when it comes to Kerry… it is just…” He shook his head, “not the same! Talk to anyone who was on The Hill. Jon has a personal issue with the Devil - that’s why in my opinion - he foolishly brought that girl along. The moron must think he can have a private little feud with Bane, and get away with it, but Jon was only on the periphery of Aladna, and on the edge of Bane! What the Devil did to him for his little indiscretion was nothing - a mere trifle!” said Teb.
“I won’t give away one of the best cards I possess,” said the Commander in Chief.
“I don’t believe you can win this war Fay, at most if you’re lucky a few more skirmishes, maybe a battle or two but not the war! You’re risking everything on a personal vendetta - just like Jon - you’re much smarter than that Fay. I know you are smarter than Jon. Sooner or later you will have to let this go, or lose heavily! You’re good, and you have far more resources, but Bane is something else a force of nature you ask anyone that has met him in any incarnation!” explained Teb, “besides Fay you have more important duties to oversee.”
“You sound like the Arch High Fallen Angels publicist!” said Fay angrily.
“I hope I sound like a friend,” retorted Teb, “we go back a long way listen Faith, I knew you before, and I know you now, you don’t have to do this! You are what you are, you don’t have to prove anything: not to me, not to the Devil, not even to Febr, and certainly not to yourself!”
“You really don’t know what it is like Teb. Something is missing; a person really isn’t just a record of memory. Something is lost, left behind, some vital spark,” said Fay now looking more despondent than angry.
“Don’t delude yourself, we are just the sum of our experiences. Take away the input, and interactions, and all that is left is just meat! To state the obvious this insecurity is in your mind,” Teb tapped his own head, “You are suffering from the cultural conditioning applied to the original Faith - call it religion or just a system of belief. The pretty lies we tell ourselves because we are afraid of the longest dark! Of all people Fay you don’t need that crutch anymore. Anyway I knew Faith, and I know you Fay you are not quite the same person. Fay or Faith Two if you prefer is not guilty of the sins committed by Faith One - if you must believe in such nonsense - what was done to the original (Pirate) Fay even if she was under a death sentence was atrocious but you the reborn Faith didn’t do it,” said Teb, “Faith One made those arrangements she did that dirty deed!”
“You’ll never understand,” said Fay, “the Fay I deposed is still in here in the now passive digital store,” Fay tapped her own skull, “a whole life of memory. In many ways easier to access than my own fully downloaded self (Fay’s life unlike my own memories are not wedded to the less neat, and precise organic brain tissue). I know Fay better than I know myself. Fay wasn’t an evil person she was just the product of the horrid events of her life: an occasional weakness, a few poor decisions. I denied her even the decency of a clean death, I’m like some horrendous ghoul feasting on her undying flesh, a mind, and body thieving parasite!”
“What is done is done,” stated Teb, “Fay this private war with the Devil - or trying to save the universe from itself - won’t grant you absolution! These things are just distractions excuses to abscond from standing up to your own inner turmoil. Go on like this and even if you succeed it will destroy you. Listen to me Fay you need real help: therapy - counselling - you have to let Faith One go, embrace what, and who - you - really are. Like everyone else Fay you are a mixed bag of experiences (good, and bad) existent in a world of uncertainty - just like all the other billions of Argons. When you accept this you will be set free from this self destructive self loathing!”
Fay knew much of what Teb said was good firm common sense, but logical argument just didn’t seem to apply to her dilemma. It was like the difference between description, and actual feeling. Fay would be content to operate under cold smooth logic - if only she could - unfortunately some cycles: the harder she grasped at logic, the more it seemed to slip between her delicate fingers!
“Well if the lecture is over,” said Fay, “have you any other - real intelligence to impart or are you just wasting my time with rabid fears, and Devil worship?”
“Given that you have Kerry, I thought you would consider the fact that Bane is loose reason enough for my visit. How are matters on AFC 4?” asked Teb.
“Complicated. We still don’t have anything from the kidnapper not a whisper!” said Fay.
“Something is very wrong with that,” noted Tebbin, “if it is Sven what is he up to!”
“I spoke to Admiral Hale he more or less confessed to the kidnapping, and defied all my poorly veiled threats. The Oracle is feeling sublimely confident, all I can do is hope he is over confident,” noted Fay, “I brought Danna in, but I’ve heard nothing back beyond an acknowledgement of the message packages receipt.”
“Nothing unusual in that - Ban likes to keep off the Gravidar scanner until it is too late,” said Teb.
“I suppose that is true,” said Fay, “to make matters worse though have you seen some of the recent VNN media coverage? I suppose you wouldn’t have, being too busy! The crazy sensationalists are literally daring anti government terrorists to have a go at the station! Some space crazy loon, or idealistic band of freedom fighters is bound to take up this VNN challenge - for the potential notoriety alone!”
“Well that is more a Federal Argon Policing matter as far as I’m concerned,” said Tebbin.
“Well FAP have been very noticeable in their absence they seem content to let the Navy handle this show - at least for the moment!” replied Fay somebody wasn‘t stupid.
“Useless Discoverer scanner jockeys ought to be at least keeping an eye out for the usual suspects. Any sign of APPIS on AFC 4 yet?” asked Teb.
“A few of Poetyr’s boys are on station, but they have drawn a blank. Seems somehow the last movements of Hal Beyn aka Febr were missed by AFC 4 camera. Then again as I told one of the investigators a Mark Thrace myself: the old Argon is a genius and probably had some technological wizardry on his side like a top-flight hack! It is only a matter of time till they knock on Anna’s door though, somebody has done a real poor in depth (security) data search not to put those two figures together,” said Fay hardly able to believe it.
“More likely - they know already - and are just biding their time watching,” stated Teb.
“I’ve been thinking that myself. Odd thing is they haven’t put her under direct surveillance - we would have noticed, or requested any cooperation, or done any data searches in the AFC 4 systems on Anna. Then again maybe they know it was an inside ANI spring and rightly don’t trust any of us,” said Fay.
In Space in Elena’s Fortune the self proclaimed Lone Wolf: anti government Pirate Anarchist, and Freedom Fighter ‘Ishchi’ turned away from the screen and another inflammatory report.
“Fekkin Federal Argon media prostitutes,” Ishchi cursed, “I’ll give them all something to talk about and a use for their insurance too,” he continued smiling, “I’ll open up Pandora’s box. The scum will have a new topic of conversation for a decade or so, the self righteous son’s of a Split Slave Masters leavings!”
For two cycles now Ischi had been flying away from the centre of ‘Elena’s Fortune’. The gate grid was now just like another star - a bright point of light - to the naked eye Ishchi’s transport trailed on followed by his Discoverer Scout ship on automatic. Visual confirmation didn’t matter as he had the stations navigation position plotted, and fixed he even had a well placed satellite to assist, and would set a very precise straight line vector when the time came.
The adjustments in the end hadn’t really been much of a technical achievement, and were really just a crude fix. The hard bit had been the long trial, and error to figure out the totality of the cursed technologies multiple, and diverse in built limiters. In the end the Lone Wolfs solution hadn’t been a question of extra tunings or hacking the software. It had required a complete cut off switch for the fly by wire including a means of physically disabling cutting power to the automatic and emergency breaking thrusters.
The engines would still have destroyed themselves after a period of time - the final protection being hardened into the engines physical nature - making them incapable of long continuous burns, however, by accelerating in spurts Ishchi could avoid this meltdown, and still turn the old Small Transport into a deadly relativistic missile that would hit AFC 4 like the wrath of a rather powerful if lesser God, and - with the right run - at astronomical speeds! Not even the complexes massive shielding would be able to take the energy of that hit, no explosives would be required the sheer mass and momentum would be more than enough to do the required business. It would also make monkeys out of the navy - as far as Ishchi knew nothing in their arsenal had the ability to stop or intercept a target going that fast - except by accident.
Of course when the control cut off switch came he would be running the ship on his own tiny command auto routine patched in via a simple installed bypass - a taped down computer pad of all things. It was basic but if the initial ships vector were aimed close enough all it should take would be a few computerised tiny nudges of the four-axis strafe drive thrusters for correction. Ishchi was surprised this sort of weapon had never been used before, or maybe it had, but was hushed up! As far as he could ascertain even if the ship utterly pan caked, and exploded on the massive shields of the station the sheer forward momentum would still overcome that defence, and punch the ships fragmented material including the force of its explosion on forward and probably right through the body of the station itself. Ishchi didn’t understand the underpinning mathematics (the physics) but the principle was basically no different to firing a high speed - soft slug - right through another more solid material: something which worked fine, and that was all he needed to know!
Ishchi’s obsession with relativistic speed had grown out a typical piratical obsession with getting an edge on his foes. Ishchi had started out adding extra tunings to engines then realised that it was only the engines themselves that really created the current (obscene to his mind) false limitations put upon space flight. The limits puzzled, and annoyed the rebel beyond any reasonable measure. The final straw came when Ishchi captured his first Khaak M5 scout ship. To his shock and dismay he discovered these outsider aliens limited their engines too - in almost exactly the same manner! This made no sense to the Pirate. Ishchi had once believed the Races had got together and imposed safe speed limits on space transport within the Grids, however, the Khaak were outside that loop, so who could have imposed limiters upon their travel speeds? They certainly didn’t buy their engines from Terracorp!
Ishchi decided it had to be the so-called benevolent builders of the Gate Grid itself the enigmatic Ancients. These godlike creatures were obviously despotic overlord control freaks! Not only were they ruling the universe from invisible thrones but also the Ancients had obviously infiltrated all the races governments in some horrendously subtle manner. Everyone in the Grid was - horror upon horror - just a toy, a pet in an alien zoo! The idea became an obsession, and for a time Ishchi had a complete mental breakdown.
Afterwards when the Pirate recovered, and escaped from the tiny Asylum in Three Worlds - where he was being held - Ishchi became determined to expose the evil plot once, and for all. Ishchi’s current plan was as much a practical demonstration of the false restrictions put upon the Grid Dwellers acceleration, as it was an action against the oppressive infiltrated Argon regime! It was a tiny act of defiance, but Ishchi was determined to rattle his cage. The destruction or at the least severe damage of AFC 4 combined with his own broadcast of responsibility, and explanation - would finally show the governments up for what they were - mere pawns of the Grids true Masters!
Jollo Gardna the Argon Forge Vice President was in flight at the back of a Jump capable Discoverer courier. He wasn’t really looking forward to arriving on AFC 4 he preferred to do most of his business on Argon Prime, however his ultimate boss had given him no choice.
Jollo was to speak with Gregor, and do a bit of face-to-face digging. Ban was obviously worried about the way things were going on that station - too much was happening now behind the blanket cover of Corporate Blocks - one known limitation of the alien ‘Hive access Core’ technology it could only use systems that had power in them already. The Blocks physically turned off all microphones, and cameras, and thus deadheaded the Hive. Of course Blocks were very overt means of counter surveillance, and their usage was normally restricted to specific corporate spaces on station. Using a Corporate Block was also a clear give away you had something to hide.
Jollo hoped Gregor still failed to appreciate the degree of collusion between himself, and Danna. Jollo was rarely ever activated officially, but always passed on interesting bytes of information to Ban out of mere habit. Danna as the head of Argon Intelligence usually seemed content with this, and only ever contacted Jollo officially as if speaking to the VP of ArgonForge. It was a good arrangement indeed so good sometimes Jollo forgot Ban was his original employer, and he had even had a raging row with him once. Well it was easy to think of Ban as just an old friend and sometime working associate besides Ban had a way about him.
Jollo believed he was sticking his head into the fire with this trip. The AF VP had been to his knowledge the first operative to draw Danna’s attention to the fact that Fay was becoming a little too desirous of technologies that were perhaps borderline rather than failed, and perhaps not as dangerous to the Grids balance as she would have others believe. Since this revelation Ban had been following the AF ‘Hive access Core’ research, and development with a rare degree of attention, between this fact and the news that Sven was meddling made Jollo exceptionally nervous. The VP wished he understood why ANI was so factional? Why did Ban put up with so many acts of defiance by these lieutenant’s no matter how able they were?
Jollo would have had these two individuals heads removed long ago - before they got so powerful and threatening - which was probably why he was a mere sleeper while Danna was the penultimate chief of Argon Intelligence.
Ban was Jollo guessed probably running on the old axiom: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Danna like so many before him using the oldest imperial policy of divide, and conquer both inside, and outside the agencies. Besides nothing BD did was ever quite as it seemed. Just like the Argon’s outward appearance as a slightly dithering old grandfather type. Often slow of speech with an overly easy and relaxed manner to his business - it was far too effortless to forget that behind the slight paunch and stretched Navy uniform and those emphatic eyes lurked a mind like a - steel trap - with teeth like nine-inch nails.
People just kept insisting to their detriment on underestimating that Argon. Maybe it was the stupid name Ban Danna really it had to be an affectation, no parent of the Danna clan would be so cruel would they? Or maybe even they had realised the curious benison of having a name that others would consider a joke!
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Thu, 1. May 08, 13:22, edited 2 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 63 – All The Universe a Stage
Anna of the many titles not least of which was RJL Administrator woke with a start (as if struck by an electric shock) it was the cycle before the commencement of the Treason Trial! The countdown was finally - almost over! In her mind this had to be the one, the cycle when she would at last hear from the kidnappers. Anna wondered if prior to this it was it possible that all her guards had scared the villains away. The Professor still technically in charge of the ‘Hive access Core’ test questioned would it have been better if she had at least tried to make a break from her watchers would that have encouraged contact: would losing her protection at this stage been wise or foolish? Anna’s own oscillations disturbed her one moment she had been seeking more protection the next…
Desperate for news Anna felt she couldn’t go on just waiting in her office home; then she remembered this was also the cycle of the very special RJL launch party, how could she have forgot? Maybe because it felt crazy to be celebrating with her Mother missing, and Febr still in limbo even if there was methodology in that madness. This evening (station time) was very deliberately the Reaper Jump Liners scheduled in - main event - it would provide rare opportunities all around - business was business even to kidnappers! Sue had hired out the AFC 4 ‘Hall of Stars’, and also sent out the crucial electronic invitations to the fabulously hyped RJL promotional Masked Ball. The theme was ‘the Grim Reaper, and his Multitude of Victims’.
White skull faced Reaper masks, and heavy black cloaks not to mention a multitude of soft inflatable scythes had been jumped in, and were available on request. Anyone otherwise seeking to be adventurous could of course organise their own Reaper Wear (real sharp ancient agricultural implements not withstanding) or go as victims! The victim category was if anything potentially much more creative since almost any deceased figure - historic or contemporary - might apply plus corpses, skeletons, zombies, ghosts, revenants, and other fantastical dead entities. Getting a costume in time wasn’t a worry for the invited folk costly logistical difficulties would mostly be seen as just another - practical - opportunity to compete, and demonstrate their power, and prestige. Fun during such multiply recorded occasions was by necessity serious industry.
Seeking to keep a firm scythe handle on the situation Sue had already done a short electronic poll of accepters, and realised many guests would be going down the - historic ghost, or walking corpse route - mostly because it allowed them to keep their own faces bare to the press cameras. While the whole affair was in terrible taste (especially given the close proximity of the Trial with its ultimate sanction) this very fact guaranteed that the event would be a huge media spectacle: just what RJL needed a massive amount of coverage! As the saying went - there is no such thing as bad publicity!
The fact that the corporate function was masked was also a deliberate open invitation to the kidnappers. Anna, and Fay hoped the felons wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of making contact while in legitimate disguise. If the opportunity provided by the Masked Ball didn’t bring the villains out into the - relative - open no one in the Legion had any idea what would! Unbeknown to Anna the Commander in Chief Fay was especially keen on the idea as she felt sure it would appeal to Sven’s darkly twisted sense of the dramatic! All the principle players in the game would be in attendance including all the Treason Trial Grandee’s (well they all at least had invitations) among which was numbered (the in Fays opinion vile) Admiral Sven Hale!
Gregor had been informed in advance about the RJL function, and had agreed - given the wider circumstances - not to host any counter event! The AFC 4 Administrator would even attend himself. The would be Senator going in the poor disguise of an Argon Navy pilots uniform (sporting deathly pale, frozen, oxygen starved made up flesh) one of the grey services - glorious - dead, taken by the Reaper in the Khaak conflict! A tribute Gregor had already insisted (to one camera crew - who dared query his intent) representing, and acknowledging the ultimate price paid by all the continuing horrid wars (posthumously honoured - yet often forgot) military heroes! Gregor certainly had a way with media spin!
Anna was not in the least surprised her screen hungry ex boss would not hide his face behind a skull mask. No opportunity for politicking was ever overlooked - in many ways this was what the Trial was really about, just one more reinforcement of the status quo! Garrin had decided to side step the mask difficulty by paying an extravagant sum for a unique tailored solution, well he couldn’t resist being the Reaper, but also wanted to show his face to the lens. In many ways G was still a rather vain young Argon, thought Anna.
On another front when Ravn first heard about the Masked Ball he had thrown a rounded fist full of objections at the plan. To say that the RJL security Chief objected to the scheme would be a massive understatement. Ravn had spoken frankly warning Anna that he couldn’t give her proper protection under these insane conditions. The whole environment was just one big security risk from start to finish. Ravn claimed he could not, would not; guarantee Anna or anybody else’s assured protection if the scheme went ahead! Getting no where with such impassioned but reasoned argument in the end Anna’s bodyguard stated to his charge, “Fay is just using you to bait a trap.” to which Anna replied bluntly, “No one is, nor will they ever use me,” Ravn wasn’t convinced, but had no choice but to accept his orders. Despite his many objections he was forced to get on with his duties as best he could insisting on - at the very least - entrance security scans, and proper ID checks!
Gregor immediately realised Jollo was intent on catching up with him - perhaps informally - specifically at his High Tower Apartment as if by surprise. To facilitate his purpose Jollo had not reported his imminent arrival on station until the last moment, and had contacted DC&C (Docking Command, and Control) directly not used the usual ArgonForge AFC 4 corporate protocols. Jollo had then insisted his visit be kept quiet, but it had nonetheless leaked directly back to Gregor - almost instantly - via several on station toadies (individuals the Administrator had carefully cultivated). Despite being forewarned, Gregor decided to play along by staying put until Jollo door belled him in person. While it was possible the Vice President just want to go to the Ball, it was much more likely Jollo had heard about Sven’s Senatorial offer, after all nothing was Private on AFC 4!
Gregor had been planning to tell Jollo his amazing news (direct to his face - well by a direct link anyway) pretty soon, after all the well placed Argon was family. Despite everything that had happened including his own belated good fortune (while waiting on the VP) Gregor found his hands were getting rather sweaty, it brought back recollections of that fateful meeting on Argon Prime when he had almost quit ArgonForge prematurely out of pique.
Gregor was now very glad he had toughened it out with the Corporation, in many ways Jollo was responsible for him fostering that choice, and therefore Gregor felt some genuine gratitude to his friend for helping him to achieve his current advantageous position! The AFC 4 Administrator wondered would it be prudent to reveal - an acknowledgement of indebtedness - would this make his kinsman through marriage miserable or happy now that Gregor was determined to depart the fold? Would such an action be considered strength or weakness? By taking the political ticket Gregor would have to distance himself from his old corporation, but he could / would still be a friend to Jollo Gardna, and ArgonForge in his heart - he hoped that would still count for something? Gregor despite these thoughts still felt surprisingly - to his embarrassment - like a child at school about to see his principle when he finally opened the door to admit his guest.
A little later both parties nursing vintage space fuel on ice regarded each other from comfortable recliners while under the protection from scrutiny of a Corporate Block, all their respective guards had also been removed to the outside corridor.
“A big step Gregor,” said Jollo, “the Admiral Hale is how can I put this - a colourful figure - with a not entirely savoury reputation.”
“So I have learned, but forewarned is forearmed. I am my own Argon. It will do Hale no harm to think he has me in his pocket beyond a few well staged, and expected wiggles from time to time,” explained the AFC 4 Administrator.
“Hmmmm,” mumbled Jollo, “that could get you some interesting friends - in very high places indeed - if you were open to even wider opportunities!” he hinted.
“Wider than support from an Admiral of the fleet?” queried Gregor.
“Even such worthies as Sven Hale are occasionally answerable to others - such as certain Senatorial Committees. I have a few discrete connections of my own Gregor people with enough combined power to with the right aid - bury the likes of Hale as if he was nothing but a bad smell - which trust me Gregor that snake is!” noted Jollo taking a tiny sip.
“That is interesting,” said Gregor.
Gregor couldn’t help wondering if Jollo just wanted to appear to still have one up on his current junior, or if the VP really was connected to the degree he claimed.
“Somebody on the inside, who played the game properly might reach further than they ever imagined. Could you see yourself going all the way Gregor to the Penultimate Prize - within a reasonable span of time too - not the decades one usually expects!” insisted Jollo, “I know that sounds fantastic, and absurd, but any load can be shifted with a big enough lever! I have the necessary trust - which could by extension be granted to yourself, and you it would appear have the inside position that down the line could make you worthy of elevation! Profit as they say passes everywhere!”
Brother Aelo down in the so-called AFC 4 dungeon turned to Rud Chakr, “So how are you feeling this cycle my child?” he asked.
“What difference does it make? Do you think if I get ill they will delay the Trial or decide not to throw me out the airlock?” asked the young ex AFC 4 clerk.
“Ah… a little despondent, to be expected, I suppose,” said the Green Cloaked Goner Priest through his bushy beard.
“More than a little - Brother Aelo, if I had some rope I’d save the Corporate Sluts the bother, and hang myself right now!” stated Rud.
“Now, now no need for that sort of talk, or language. One should face ones life and responsibilities with dignity, and courage, not with black thoughts, and a foul tongue,” reprimanded the Priest.
“It’s not life I’m facing Aelo - its an excruciating death - you fekking face that with courage I plan to kick, and scream at the horror of it all!” stated Rud feeling bitter.
“I suppose that might be a plan,” said Aelo, “at least that way they might sedate you I suppose then it might go a little easier! I really wish there was something I could do, but all my pleas have fallen on death ears. AF, and the Military just won’t be moved from this sinful course of action,” he explained.
“I know,” said Rud, “I’m sorry - I suppose a Goner Transport Device is out of the question,” he said grinning, “I know you have done your best, and spoke up for me, and you are the only person that doesn’t come here to gloat at, or taunt me! Honestly I am grateful - it is just so hopeless! A few Cycles ago I just wanted it to end - now I just want to live even in this soulless white cage!” he finished once again serious.
“Have you given any more thought to your plea at the Trial?” asked Aelo.
“I would beg if I thought it would do any good, but the fek… sorry brother my accusers would only take pleasure in it, and sentence me to the same grizzly fate anyway! So I’d rather spit in their eye as ask for mercy!” said Rud dejectedly.
“Well that is a brave sentiment although hardly one that will endear you to the ages,” returned Aelo, “you know you could make your death, your life mean something. Speak out against this barbarism or warn others against committing similar foolish acts, and suffering as you have suffered. I know it is hard to see your path as being a beacon of light in the darkness, but it could be! People will remember whatever you say Rud, maybe not give it any credit - not straight away - but they will remember and in time… In a way it is a blessing to be given a voice - a voice that will be heard across the whole Universe - is that not something? Did you ever think that you Rud Chakr could fill billions of ears with your words - words that people will strain to hear, and consider, and reconsider perhaps for the rest of their lives!”
“Paranidia Aelo you sound almost as if you wished you were me. I swear you could sell real estate in Hell to the Angels - how would you convince them that dark is light - maybe remind the Hosts it has built in central heating!” said Rud laughing.
“That’s my boy,” said Aelo, “patting the young man on the back. Feels good doesn’t it. When you have so little time left you should make the most of it!”
“Do you have females in the Goner Priesthood?” asked Rud.
“Of course although they tend to work more behind the scenes - a question of tradition - rather than enforcement you understand,” said Aelo with a smile.
“I don’t suppose any are on station, and would like to give a detainee a bit of ah… solace before his end,” said Rud with a wicked grin.
“That will teach me,” said the Goner Priest, “I’ve created a monster!”
“No just an Argon. I don’t suppose you spoke with Elaen?” asked Rud.
“I did try - honestly - but she is not available at the moment,” said Aelo, “not even on duty: I, I think she might be off station! I couldn’t get a straight answer out of the Commander I’m sorry!”
“Not as much as I am. I can’t believe Garrin did the dirty on her, and she turned to another Copper! I wonder if I had been free of this cage might we? No, I suppose I am just kidding myself,” said the accused Argon shaking his head.
“You know many people cared about you Rud. They caused some trouble, and were shipped out to other stations. They stood up for you even though they knew you were guilty of betraying them,” said Aelo.
“I know, I’m sorry, I never meant to cause anybody any harm. That spy he made it all seem so innocent, and nobody was hurt either. I’m glad about that otherwise it would feel like I deserve what they are going to do to me - somehow that would be even worse,” said Rud.
“I’m sorry son but that is just false pride. It is only sheer luck that your actions didn’t cause death or injury. Do not delude yourself Rud you are guilty - only when you accept this will you be free of this cage. Only when you come to terms with the guilt can you forgive yourself. Time is running out don’t leave this Universe with a curse on your lips, and in your heart!” said the Goner.
The Admiral Sven Hale grinned, and then was aghast, looking at himself in the costume in a full-length mirror. Even without the full make-up, and minus the hard cruel metal-clawed extensions added to his hands he looked like a creature of dread. Sven Hale would be attending the Ball as a very special Revenant of the Slain, an avenging spirit formed not from one but from the entire eighteen billion souls slain by the Xenon! Hales costume was a masterful piece made up of a flowing black grey and off white robe that was made up of endless printed skulls that went from almost life size at the shoulders down to tiny but still perfectly formed skinless heads no bigger than a fingernail, and all these where screaming out their despair and hatred.
Behind these skulls could be glanced other skulls and behind those other skulls and behind those… the fabric itself was frayed and wispy at its edges so that it ended at all its extremities in tatters as if the skulls themselves marked as they were to the utter edge and limits of the cloth - seemed to almost go on beyond it - reaching out to some infinity that existed without the cloth itself. The effect made it appear almost as if the skulls traversed from the fabric right into deaths darkest of dark domains.
While the horrible fleshless faces screamed, and bayed around the Admiral in a perpetual frenzy his inner jerkin was a reminder of the cause of this atrocity, a hard unfeeling thing of cold black metal: lights, sharp spikes, and control surfaces that eluded to the most soulless of entities - creatures even more empty than the Reaper himself - the unfeeling unmerciful machines, the Xenon themselves!
Lend boarded the Transport with his family, and settled into a cramped third class seat. The Dockworker didn’t care about these conditions; he just wanted to get off the AFC 4 madhouse before it was too late! Hearing about the big plans for the big event had only helped to harden his resolve - they had all gone loco on space weed! Lend knew of Garrin, and his ‘Grim reaper’, and had even helped to load and unload the infamous scout ship on occasion, and that had sometimes (at least on a bad cycle) been harrowing enough! Tempting fate in space was a good way to get killed.
You wouldn’t paint a big bright Target on the hull of your ship - picturing the pale rider was almost as bad - in fact lets face it, it was much worse! Hundreds of people prancing about dressed as the taker of souls whilst floating in a tin can surrounded by an airless void - was just so far beyond the previous example - that he didn’t even want to contemplate the distance, but it had to be measured in nothing less than astronomical units.
Lend couldn’t wait for the ship to pull away his family was unusually subdued even the children. The Dock Worker wished those staying behind good luck, somehow he got the feeling the crazy fekkers were going to need every ounce of that commodity in the cycles ahead. Relaxing a little at last (with the ships engine thrumming) Lend was thinking even the burden of planetary gravity would be a light jolly relief! As far as the Dockworker was concerned Eno was looped staying on that station now under such a series of dodgy news, and bad omens. Maybe the Chief wasn’t as superstitious or easily worried as some, or perhaps he was just foolhardy. Whatever Eno’s reasons were, Lend hoped his boss would be alright - as must as the Dockworker enjoyed the odd wise crack at Eno’s expense - that Argon was a good mate, and had often been more than fair with the lads on his crew.
When the Personnel Transport finally pulled out Lend wondered would he ever see AFC 4 again. It would have been nice to get a final - real - view of the station vanishing into the distance but his cheap seat didn’t have even a tiny porthole (even if it had, it would be pointing the wrong way). Lend had to be content with a faded camera view (thrown up on a scarred and damaged screen) on the back of the seat ahead. Well it could be worse some third class seats wouldn’t even have screens battered or not! Somehow on the monitor the station looked as faded, worn and fragile as the wounded material that displayed it - just one more slightly unnerving omen, the now incredibly nervous Dockworker was glad it would be the last scary vision of AFC 4 he would have to endure, he had done what he had to do ensured that his family would be safe!
Carl was debating with himself whether or not to got to The Ball. Of course the Police Commander had to be there if only to oversee the security, but should he attend as a guest as well? Carl imagined dancing with Anna and somehow it seemed more erotic, and fascinating than that first night, and morning they had spent body to body. The female Argon was driving him insane. What did he want, what did he expect? Anna was hardly at her best at the moment, hardly able or willing to give her all to him! Carl yearned for the full unwavering attention of those jade eyes, but it was an unreasonable demand at this time, wasn’t it? Yet despite the pressures on his life partner Carl felt like his need was a physical requirement of his very existence!
Was it the very unreachable quality of the RJL Administrator that made her so god cursed desirable? When had he become so suddenly unreasonable? Truly love if that was what Carl was feeling: it was a sinister disease of the mind that utterly fekked you up! Sadly Carl had realised he was even suffering a stupid degree of jealousy towards Ravn - Anna’s bodyguard he wondered, was that why he had so willingly let Elaen go to her own partner just to placate this most foolish of fears? The fear that somehow Ravn, and Anna where lovers - and secretly laughing at him behind his back! Truly Carl believed he was getting too old for this steaming worm ridden pile of manure!
This Masked event was madness too like something out of an Ancient earth horror story by Poe. In his minds eye he could see it already all those Grim Reapers circling like storm crows, dancing around the Hall of Stars with their corpses for company, it was just too macabre! Without doubt it would be the Media event of the moment - how could it not - but it also would to be the worst self generated omen he would ever have the misfortune to witness! Pilots, and station crew just like ancient mariners on salty seas can be pretty superstitious. Garrin was mad, and Anna had been inflicted by his insanity. Now the whole station would dance to Deaths tune, Carl shuddered!
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 63 – All The Universe a Stage
Anna of the many titles not least of which was RJL Administrator woke with a start (as if struck by an electric shock) it was the cycle before the commencement of the Treason Trial! The countdown was finally - almost over! In her mind this had to be the one, the cycle when she would at last hear from the kidnappers. Anna wondered if prior to this it was it possible that all her guards had scared the villains away. The Professor still technically in charge of the ‘Hive access Core’ test questioned would it have been better if she had at least tried to make a break from her watchers would that have encouraged contact: would losing her protection at this stage been wise or foolish? Anna’s own oscillations disturbed her one moment she had been seeking more protection the next…
Desperate for news Anna felt she couldn’t go on just waiting in her office home; then she remembered this was also the cycle of the very special RJL launch party, how could she have forgot? Maybe because it felt crazy to be celebrating with her Mother missing, and Febr still in limbo even if there was methodology in that madness. This evening (station time) was very deliberately the Reaper Jump Liners scheduled in - main event - it would provide rare opportunities all around - business was business even to kidnappers! Sue had hired out the AFC 4 ‘Hall of Stars’, and also sent out the crucial electronic invitations to the fabulously hyped RJL promotional Masked Ball. The theme was ‘the Grim Reaper, and his Multitude of Victims’.
White skull faced Reaper masks, and heavy black cloaks not to mention a multitude of soft inflatable scythes had been jumped in, and were available on request. Anyone otherwise seeking to be adventurous could of course organise their own Reaper Wear (real sharp ancient agricultural implements not withstanding) or go as victims! The victim category was if anything potentially much more creative since almost any deceased figure - historic or contemporary - might apply plus corpses, skeletons, zombies, ghosts, revenants, and other fantastical dead entities. Getting a costume in time wasn’t a worry for the invited folk costly logistical difficulties would mostly be seen as just another - practical - opportunity to compete, and demonstrate their power, and prestige. Fun during such multiply recorded occasions was by necessity serious industry.
Seeking to keep a firm scythe handle on the situation Sue had already done a short electronic poll of accepters, and realised many guests would be going down the - historic ghost, or walking corpse route - mostly because it allowed them to keep their own faces bare to the press cameras. While the whole affair was in terrible taste (especially given the close proximity of the Trial with its ultimate sanction) this very fact guaranteed that the event would be a huge media spectacle: just what RJL needed a massive amount of coverage! As the saying went - there is no such thing as bad publicity!
The fact that the corporate function was masked was also a deliberate open invitation to the kidnappers. Anna, and Fay hoped the felons wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of making contact while in legitimate disguise. If the opportunity provided by the Masked Ball didn’t bring the villains out into the - relative - open no one in the Legion had any idea what would! Unbeknown to Anna the Commander in Chief Fay was especially keen on the idea as she felt sure it would appeal to Sven’s darkly twisted sense of the dramatic! All the principle players in the game would be in attendance including all the Treason Trial Grandee’s (well they all at least had invitations) among which was numbered (the in Fays opinion vile) Admiral Sven Hale!
Gregor had been informed in advance about the RJL function, and had agreed - given the wider circumstances - not to host any counter event! The AFC 4 Administrator would even attend himself. The would be Senator going in the poor disguise of an Argon Navy pilots uniform (sporting deathly pale, frozen, oxygen starved made up flesh) one of the grey services - glorious - dead, taken by the Reaper in the Khaak conflict! A tribute Gregor had already insisted (to one camera crew - who dared query his intent) representing, and acknowledging the ultimate price paid by all the continuing horrid wars (posthumously honoured - yet often forgot) military heroes! Gregor certainly had a way with media spin!
Anna was not in the least surprised her screen hungry ex boss would not hide his face behind a skull mask. No opportunity for politicking was ever overlooked - in many ways this was what the Trial was really about, just one more reinforcement of the status quo! Garrin had decided to side step the mask difficulty by paying an extravagant sum for a unique tailored solution, well he couldn’t resist being the Reaper, but also wanted to show his face to the lens. In many ways G was still a rather vain young Argon, thought Anna.
On another front when Ravn first heard about the Masked Ball he had thrown a rounded fist full of objections at the plan. To say that the RJL security Chief objected to the scheme would be a massive understatement. Ravn had spoken frankly warning Anna that he couldn’t give her proper protection under these insane conditions. The whole environment was just one big security risk from start to finish. Ravn claimed he could not, would not; guarantee Anna or anybody else’s assured protection if the scheme went ahead! Getting no where with such impassioned but reasoned argument in the end Anna’s bodyguard stated to his charge, “Fay is just using you to bait a trap.” to which Anna replied bluntly, “No one is, nor will they ever use me,” Ravn wasn’t convinced, but had no choice but to accept his orders. Despite his many objections he was forced to get on with his duties as best he could insisting on - at the very least - entrance security scans, and proper ID checks!
Gregor immediately realised Jollo was intent on catching up with him - perhaps informally - specifically at his High Tower Apartment as if by surprise. To facilitate his purpose Jollo had not reported his imminent arrival on station until the last moment, and had contacted DC&C (Docking Command, and Control) directly not used the usual ArgonForge AFC 4 corporate protocols. Jollo had then insisted his visit be kept quiet, but it had nonetheless leaked directly back to Gregor - almost instantly - via several on station toadies (individuals the Administrator had carefully cultivated). Despite being forewarned, Gregor decided to play along by staying put until Jollo door belled him in person. While it was possible the Vice President just want to go to the Ball, it was much more likely Jollo had heard about Sven’s Senatorial offer, after all nothing was Private on AFC 4!
Gregor had been planning to tell Jollo his amazing news (direct to his face - well by a direct link anyway) pretty soon, after all the well placed Argon was family. Despite everything that had happened including his own belated good fortune (while waiting on the VP) Gregor found his hands were getting rather sweaty, it brought back recollections of that fateful meeting on Argon Prime when he had almost quit ArgonForge prematurely out of pique.
Gregor was now very glad he had toughened it out with the Corporation, in many ways Jollo was responsible for him fostering that choice, and therefore Gregor felt some genuine gratitude to his friend for helping him to achieve his current advantageous position! The AFC 4 Administrator wondered would it be prudent to reveal - an acknowledgement of indebtedness - would this make his kinsman through marriage miserable or happy now that Gregor was determined to depart the fold? Would such an action be considered strength or weakness? By taking the political ticket Gregor would have to distance himself from his old corporation, but he could / would still be a friend to Jollo Gardna, and ArgonForge in his heart - he hoped that would still count for something? Gregor despite these thoughts still felt surprisingly - to his embarrassment - like a child at school about to see his principle when he finally opened the door to admit his guest.
A little later both parties nursing vintage space fuel on ice regarded each other from comfortable recliners while under the protection from scrutiny of a Corporate Block, all their respective guards had also been removed to the outside corridor.
“A big step Gregor,” said Jollo, “the Admiral Hale is how can I put this - a colourful figure - with a not entirely savoury reputation.”
“So I have learned, but forewarned is forearmed. I am my own Argon. It will do Hale no harm to think he has me in his pocket beyond a few well staged, and expected wiggles from time to time,” explained the AFC 4 Administrator.
“Hmmmm,” mumbled Jollo, “that could get you some interesting friends - in very high places indeed - if you were open to even wider opportunities!” he hinted.
“Wider than support from an Admiral of the fleet?” queried Gregor.
“Even such worthies as Sven Hale are occasionally answerable to others - such as certain Senatorial Committees. I have a few discrete connections of my own Gregor people with enough combined power to with the right aid - bury the likes of Hale as if he was nothing but a bad smell - which trust me Gregor that snake is!” noted Jollo taking a tiny sip.
“That is interesting,” said Gregor.
Gregor couldn’t help wondering if Jollo just wanted to appear to still have one up on his current junior, or if the VP really was connected to the degree he claimed.
“Somebody on the inside, who played the game properly might reach further than they ever imagined. Could you see yourself going all the way Gregor to the Penultimate Prize - within a reasonable span of time too - not the decades one usually expects!” insisted Jollo, “I know that sounds fantastic, and absurd, but any load can be shifted with a big enough lever! I have the necessary trust - which could by extension be granted to yourself, and you it would appear have the inside position that down the line could make you worthy of elevation! Profit as they say passes everywhere!”
Brother Aelo down in the so-called AFC 4 dungeon turned to Rud Chakr, “So how are you feeling this cycle my child?” he asked.
“What difference does it make? Do you think if I get ill they will delay the Trial or decide not to throw me out the airlock?” asked the young ex AFC 4 clerk.
“Ah… a little despondent, to be expected, I suppose,” said the Green Cloaked Goner Priest through his bushy beard.
“More than a little - Brother Aelo, if I had some rope I’d save the Corporate Sluts the bother, and hang myself right now!” stated Rud.
“Now, now no need for that sort of talk, or language. One should face ones life and responsibilities with dignity, and courage, not with black thoughts, and a foul tongue,” reprimanded the Priest.
“It’s not life I’m facing Aelo - its an excruciating death - you fekking face that with courage I plan to kick, and scream at the horror of it all!” stated Rud feeling bitter.
“I suppose that might be a plan,” said Aelo, “at least that way they might sedate you I suppose then it might go a little easier! I really wish there was something I could do, but all my pleas have fallen on death ears. AF, and the Military just won’t be moved from this sinful course of action,” he explained.
“I know,” said Rud, “I’m sorry - I suppose a Goner Transport Device is out of the question,” he said grinning, “I know you have done your best, and spoke up for me, and you are the only person that doesn’t come here to gloat at, or taunt me! Honestly I am grateful - it is just so hopeless! A few Cycles ago I just wanted it to end - now I just want to live even in this soulless white cage!” he finished once again serious.
“Have you given any more thought to your plea at the Trial?” asked Aelo.
“I would beg if I thought it would do any good, but the fek… sorry brother my accusers would only take pleasure in it, and sentence me to the same grizzly fate anyway! So I’d rather spit in their eye as ask for mercy!” said Rud dejectedly.
“Well that is a brave sentiment although hardly one that will endear you to the ages,” returned Aelo, “you know you could make your death, your life mean something. Speak out against this barbarism or warn others against committing similar foolish acts, and suffering as you have suffered. I know it is hard to see your path as being a beacon of light in the darkness, but it could be! People will remember whatever you say Rud, maybe not give it any credit - not straight away - but they will remember and in time… In a way it is a blessing to be given a voice - a voice that will be heard across the whole Universe - is that not something? Did you ever think that you Rud Chakr could fill billions of ears with your words - words that people will strain to hear, and consider, and reconsider perhaps for the rest of their lives!”
“Paranidia Aelo you sound almost as if you wished you were me. I swear you could sell real estate in Hell to the Angels - how would you convince them that dark is light - maybe remind the Hosts it has built in central heating!” said Rud laughing.
“That’s my boy,” said Aelo, “patting the young man on the back. Feels good doesn’t it. When you have so little time left you should make the most of it!”
“Do you have females in the Goner Priesthood?” asked Rud.
“Of course although they tend to work more behind the scenes - a question of tradition - rather than enforcement you understand,” said Aelo with a smile.
“I don’t suppose any are on station, and would like to give a detainee a bit of ah… solace before his end,” said Rud with a wicked grin.
“That will teach me,” said the Goner Priest, “I’ve created a monster!”
“No just an Argon. I don’t suppose you spoke with Elaen?” asked Rud.
“I did try - honestly - but she is not available at the moment,” said Aelo, “not even on duty: I, I think she might be off station! I couldn’t get a straight answer out of the Commander I’m sorry!”
“Not as much as I am. I can’t believe Garrin did the dirty on her, and she turned to another Copper! I wonder if I had been free of this cage might we? No, I suppose I am just kidding myself,” said the accused Argon shaking his head.
“You know many people cared about you Rud. They caused some trouble, and were shipped out to other stations. They stood up for you even though they knew you were guilty of betraying them,” said Aelo.
“I know, I’m sorry, I never meant to cause anybody any harm. That spy he made it all seem so innocent, and nobody was hurt either. I’m glad about that otherwise it would feel like I deserve what they are going to do to me - somehow that would be even worse,” said Rud.
“I’m sorry son but that is just false pride. It is only sheer luck that your actions didn’t cause death or injury. Do not delude yourself Rud you are guilty - only when you accept this will you be free of this cage. Only when you come to terms with the guilt can you forgive yourself. Time is running out don’t leave this Universe with a curse on your lips, and in your heart!” said the Goner.
The Admiral Sven Hale grinned, and then was aghast, looking at himself in the costume in a full-length mirror. Even without the full make-up, and minus the hard cruel metal-clawed extensions added to his hands he looked like a creature of dread. Sven Hale would be attending the Ball as a very special Revenant of the Slain, an avenging spirit formed not from one but from the entire eighteen billion souls slain by the Xenon! Hales costume was a masterful piece made up of a flowing black grey and off white robe that was made up of endless printed skulls that went from almost life size at the shoulders down to tiny but still perfectly formed skinless heads no bigger than a fingernail, and all these where screaming out their despair and hatred.
Behind these skulls could be glanced other skulls and behind those other skulls and behind those… the fabric itself was frayed and wispy at its edges so that it ended at all its extremities in tatters as if the skulls themselves marked as they were to the utter edge and limits of the cloth - seemed to almost go on beyond it - reaching out to some infinity that existed without the cloth itself. The effect made it appear almost as if the skulls traversed from the fabric right into deaths darkest of dark domains.
While the horrible fleshless faces screamed, and bayed around the Admiral in a perpetual frenzy his inner jerkin was a reminder of the cause of this atrocity, a hard unfeeling thing of cold black metal: lights, sharp spikes, and control surfaces that eluded to the most soulless of entities - creatures even more empty than the Reaper himself - the unfeeling unmerciful machines, the Xenon themselves!
Lend boarded the Transport with his family, and settled into a cramped third class seat. The Dockworker didn’t care about these conditions; he just wanted to get off the AFC 4 madhouse before it was too late! Hearing about the big plans for the big event had only helped to harden his resolve - they had all gone loco on space weed! Lend knew of Garrin, and his ‘Grim reaper’, and had even helped to load and unload the infamous scout ship on occasion, and that had sometimes (at least on a bad cycle) been harrowing enough! Tempting fate in space was a good way to get killed.
You wouldn’t paint a big bright Target on the hull of your ship - picturing the pale rider was almost as bad - in fact lets face it, it was much worse! Hundreds of people prancing about dressed as the taker of souls whilst floating in a tin can surrounded by an airless void - was just so far beyond the previous example - that he didn’t even want to contemplate the distance, but it had to be measured in nothing less than astronomical units.
Lend couldn’t wait for the ship to pull away his family was unusually subdued even the children. The Dock Worker wished those staying behind good luck, somehow he got the feeling the crazy fekkers were going to need every ounce of that commodity in the cycles ahead. Relaxing a little at last (with the ships engine thrumming) Lend was thinking even the burden of planetary gravity would be a light jolly relief! As far as the Dockworker was concerned Eno was looped staying on that station now under such a series of dodgy news, and bad omens. Maybe the Chief wasn’t as superstitious or easily worried as some, or perhaps he was just foolhardy. Whatever Eno’s reasons were, Lend hoped his boss would be alright - as must as the Dockworker enjoyed the odd wise crack at Eno’s expense - that Argon was a good mate, and had often been more than fair with the lads on his crew.
When the Personnel Transport finally pulled out Lend wondered would he ever see AFC 4 again. It would have been nice to get a final - real - view of the station vanishing into the distance but his cheap seat didn’t have even a tiny porthole (even if it had, it would be pointing the wrong way). Lend had to be content with a faded camera view (thrown up on a scarred and damaged screen) on the back of the seat ahead. Well it could be worse some third class seats wouldn’t even have screens battered or not! Somehow on the monitor the station looked as faded, worn and fragile as the wounded material that displayed it - just one more slightly unnerving omen, the now incredibly nervous Dockworker was glad it would be the last scary vision of AFC 4 he would have to endure, he had done what he had to do ensured that his family would be safe!
Carl was debating with himself whether or not to got to The Ball. Of course the Police Commander had to be there if only to oversee the security, but should he attend as a guest as well? Carl imagined dancing with Anna and somehow it seemed more erotic, and fascinating than that first night, and morning they had spent body to body. The female Argon was driving him insane. What did he want, what did he expect? Anna was hardly at her best at the moment, hardly able or willing to give her all to him! Carl yearned for the full unwavering attention of those jade eyes, but it was an unreasonable demand at this time, wasn’t it? Yet despite the pressures on his life partner Carl felt like his need was a physical requirement of his very existence!
Was it the very unreachable quality of the RJL Administrator that made her so god cursed desirable? When had he become so suddenly unreasonable? Truly love if that was what Carl was feeling: it was a sinister disease of the mind that utterly fekked you up! Sadly Carl had realised he was even suffering a stupid degree of jealousy towards Ravn - Anna’s bodyguard he wondered, was that why he had so willingly let Elaen go to her own partner just to placate this most foolish of fears? The fear that somehow Ravn, and Anna where lovers - and secretly laughing at him behind his back! Truly Carl believed he was getting too old for this steaming worm ridden pile of manure!
This Masked event was madness too like something out of an Ancient earth horror story by Poe. In his minds eye he could see it already all those Grim Reapers circling like storm crows, dancing around the Hall of Stars with their corpses for company, it was just too macabre! Without doubt it would be the Media event of the moment - how could it not - but it also would to be the worst self generated omen he would ever have the misfortune to witness! Pilots, and station crew just like ancient mariners on salty seas can be pretty superstitious. Garrin was mad, and Anna had been inflicted by his insanity. Now the whole station would dance to Deaths tune, Carl shuddered!
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Thu, 1. May 08, 13:23, edited 2 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 64 – An Unusual Party
The ‘Hall of Stars’ was a large function space, famous for its wall of lateral and horizontal curving windows. The heavy-duty transparent barrier made up one whole side facing out into the - terrifyingly close - empty depths of the endless night. Music was already playing from hidden speakers, but at this time of the evening only in the background, and none of the tracks were overly energetic. This was the period when it was expected the early arriving guests would prefer to talk, mingle, and settle in. As well as the stars outside multiple projectors had brought space within including glowing swirling planets, and gaseous nebulae. Occasionally a CGI Transport would jump in or out among the projected stars to escape the Reaper. A grotesque projection of the thief of souls constantly stalked the walls, and ceilings in an endless vigil reaching, and clawing at the empty air - sweeping its scythe - in an eternal quest for new souls to carry away.
Carl in full AF dark blue, and black dress uniform felt unmanned, and undone when he finally spied out the distinctive forms of Anna, and Gregor among the Reapers and Spectres. The Police Commanders lover looked ethereal in every sense: dressed in a simple but flowing white gown. The basic garment a mere sheet of cloth (compared to many of the more richly brocaded, tailored, and resplendent guests outfits) nonetheless - in Carl’s eyes the white - outshined them all by its clean lines alone. Carl easily appreciated such simplistic, and naturalistic purity! To the Commanders mixed delight, and embarrassed horror the shroud (despite fully covering the females body) only emphasised the naked form that could be glimpsed beneath - as a very mobile, and nubile shadow - although the tantalising image was just noticeable, this somehow made it all the more attractive to the eye. Carl found it difficult not to stare every time his new partner moved in front of the ever-roaming tight beam spotlights. The beams that tracked, and briefly picked out individuals, and tight groups at random upon the dance floor!
Watching Anna approach Carl felt like he lay under some ridiculous eldritch enchantment - everything he had been thinking all his work related concerns suddenly felt surreal, and irrelevant. Instead all the AFC 4 head of security could do was study the apparition before him. Carl noticed for example: the Administrators face, arms and hands were paler than normal, pale as bone her lips unadorned but still defined themselves - standing apart - from the rest of her flesh via a moist hint of her living breath, and natural colour. Even by some wizardry Anna’s jade green eyes appeared to mirror the association of their now marble cool frame - still glowing bright - only frostily (as if animated by a internal spirit that burned as only ice burns, with a fierce, and surprising chill).
The overall vision thought Carl, was one fit to grasp uplift and yet shatter the wounded heart. Finally the spectacle was topped by Anna’s lightened (normally dirty fair) now almost white hair which floated lose, and untamed around her face like a primitive halo: one perhaps scribbled by an innocent childish hand to surround a deadly in its perfection angelic face! The ghostly Lady in White Persona fitted the female Argon like a knife fitted its wound: at once tragic and ideal. Anna’s face looking away for an instant as she replied to an inquiry from Gregor revealed a profile that was almost unrelieved in its sculpted sharp coldness, yet beautiful in its controlled precision. While her body seemed rife with a powerfully twisted sexual yearning, an unreachable otherworldly seduction - fearful but magnetic.
The combined package for Carl was a lure that attracted above, and beyond the more natural, and proper repulsion one would usually associate with a ghostly herald of suffering, pain and doom, and yet… Carl had rarely experienced such an insanely marvellous bleakness since the loud, and savage time when he had been in the Mobile Artillery. Somehow on the instant the ghostly vision made him revisit, and value that sorrow: feeling like a late accusation of an unexpected degenerating, and unhealthy mental state. The depths of the depression had dropped upon the Commander from nowhere. Faces long gone floated before Carls minds eye like misplaced siblings - the deceased from the friendly fire incident first among them - oddly this assault on his rationality made him smile another aspect that felt like a peculiar, and unhealthy inversion - even a paradox in itself! Carl was proud, and happy that he still remembered all their names, and their faces, that he still carried the heavy burden. The Police Commander willingly accepted the distress. Luckily the moment passed as all distractions - a shadow play - cast by an invisible spotlight on his soul.
Shaking off the momentary lapse Carl looked outward once more. Following Anna’s final approach it was as if mythology, and reality had collided here to take a truer form. The PA now Reaper Jump Liner Administrator was like a soft pale flame both dangerous: capable of causing a conflagration by its mere touch, yet fearfully fragile as only the deepest beauty can ever be! Carl was shocked. It almost felt like Anna had stripped away the very outward appearance to reveal much of his inner confusion, and made it manifest in the real (substantial material) world - a domain where no such edifice had any legitimate right to exist as touchable physical solid matter.
To Carl the vision of Anna before him was not just a picture of the outer surface but also of the inner perception - that overlaid it! Anna’s grief but grace under the loss of her Mother, and the fire, and frost of Carl, and Anna’s own relationship: all that was done but not said, all that was felt but not known, all that was feared, and looked away from - all these spirits revealed in a mocking yet solemn form!
There were many legends, and stories of Ladies in White even right up to contemporary times, surprisingly technology had never banished the Argon fervour for tragic, and terrifying ghost stories. In some The Lady was a sorrow that pleaded in confused silence to be laid to rest, in many others the irresistible lure to a supernatural snare! In his youth Carl would have mocked the concept of any female form being irresistible (as in beyond the limits of his own selfish desires, and self control) but tonight as he moved forward all such youthful certainty seemed to be cast off, and was left behind him. If the loss of such innocent delusion wasn’t terrifying - the Commander didn’t know what was!
“Anna you look… breathtaking,” said Carl.
The Police Commander understanding the fullness of the term for the first time in his life. Really he wanted to take her hand and drag her off where they could be very actively alone! The female Argon was like a fire in his veins.
“Thank you! I see my Knight has arrived to the joust in his tabard of office. I hope this is not going to be just an official appearance,” said Anna raising an eyebrow with an incredibly cute half smile upon her cool sharp, but subtly painted face.
“I know,” confessed the Commander, “I just couldn’t bring myself to fully join the game, to become one of the grimly masked or the walking dead,” said Carl, “nonetheless I will feel far deader, and un-restful inside if we don’t - dance - many times before this night is through!” the pairs eyes locked.
“Well spoken Commander you shock me with your unexpected eloquence,” said Gregor butting in on the private moment while moving over to stand nearby, “really though - dress uniform - you need to let go, and embrace every one of life’s unexpected opportunities, eh old friend! All these Reapers,” the AFC 4 Administrator continued gesturing around with more drama than sincerity, “certainly help you to realise that all our days are short, and numbered, do they not?”
“I suppose I might obtain one of the complimentary masks, and cloaks later,” replied Carl looking at Gregor’s own uniform. Carl found the artfully cracked helmet that the Administrator held under the crook of his left arm particularly disturbing, “so did you dream of being a navy pilot in your childhood?”
“Indeed, even on many occasions of being the posthumous hero - how absurd is that - to actually desire before your life has even begun: a dramatic fall, and a tear filled send off, as if that was a full purpose in itself - how youth is corrupted! Now I know I can better serve the Argon by living. As glorious, and inspirational as our deceased heroes are, if their sacrifice is to have more than symbolic meaning, we who they have protected must build upon the deeds of our own lives. Prove we are individually worthy of the selfless honour bestowed upon us. We must forge ever ahead to make better less wicked times!” said Gregor.
Carl winced - seeing the floating camera late - Gregor was incorrigible, and had probably been making little speeches without end (since he arrived) in the hope one or another would be broadcast to a wide audience! Well that was the last free lead in Carl was going to give the fekker - if he could help himself! The Commander hated being used casually for others ends. No wonder Gregor had been willing to go along with the scheme it was just more free personal publicity.
Jollo had easily secured a belated invitation to the Masked ball. Suewyn was more than delighted to have the AF VP come along. Since the Vice President had arrived ill prepared, and really just wanted to observe more than interact he was happy to procure a standard free Grim Reaper mask, cloak, and yes even the inflatable scythe! Well Jollo hoped to soon be just one more indistinguishable skull face. Once he would have felt more than a little uncomfortable dressing up as a character, but it was surprising how many business events had even worse themed nights than this - at least for an aging Argons dignity!
Jollo didn’t really consider himself the party type, but he had learned long ago that in business it didn’t pay to be anything other than flexible. Luckily when he did show up a little late, and was checked through security, the cameras focus lay momentarily elsewhere! The RJL, AF, AFC4, and Argon Navy security were keeping the reporters away from the immediate entrance much to their vociferous annoyance (even the automatic camera drones were being excluded via some sophisticated selective short range area electronic jamming devices). This was an unusual call by RJL which allowed checked masked guests to retain a degree of optional anonymity - the formal herald of any arriving guest also being optional rather than a straight forward, and automatic etiquette.
For all the above reasons the VP found it easy to slip in to the bizarre affair - quietly with a minimum off fuss. Wearing a mask, and deep hood as an individual target he was of little use to the gutter press. In fact it amused Jollo to shake his scythe at the main knot of media vultures as he passed. As useful as publicity often was - given the opportunity - on occasion Jollo would be more than happy to cut more than a few of these empty headed egotists down to size. It always amazed the ArgonForge VIP that media jocks had such big heads given all they did was look presentable, and talk for a living! Long, long ago Jollo had studied media at the Academy - a little something on the side - so he knew modern anchor-Argons didn’t even edit their material while the cameras mostly ran on tried, and trusted automatic algorithms. Many of these famous individuals didn’t even speak their own words or do their own research they were just faces on screens.
The old style intrepid investigative journalist - which he had romanticised about - was now mostly a thing of the past, or very freelance, and exceptionally dodgy! Such wild cards would never get aboard AFC 4 at this time. Modern Cycle Freelance journalists often had links with criminality following or belonging to Pirate Clans or even instigating other unlawful activity in order to capture the occurrence on lens. No freelancer could afford to rely on luck they needed a steady stream of creditworthy items. When it came to finding needles the Universe was a very large haystack. Most useful images for example: moving or stills now came in from ordinary people, or through automatic systems that just happened to be on scene at the time - such material would be bought up by the syndicates, and then rented out on a pay per use basis to individual channels, and shows.
These cycles making money out of gathering news was a hard business indeed - prices were low because most events were caught on multiple cameras. Cameras were everywhere. On AP for example most civilians had their cameras constantly buzzing around themselves - following like pets on a short leash. Expensive units had become more than utilitarian they had become - foolish fashion accessories - often with weird subsidiary functions, a few even acted as communication devices that could plug into the Inter Link. It wasn’t too difficult to locate Gregor as he was hovering around his former PA who was looking splendid in what Jollo called - a saucy white shift - now there was a picture worth taking thought Jollo! It was almost a pity Anna had a mind, and not just - that body - because of her intelligence she was off limits as a plaything! Still there was no harm in imagining… the Commander was a lucky son of a Teladi!
Now the question was where was the Admiral? Knowing Sven he won’t be easily missed - no doubt the Oracle was waiting to make a grand entrance. Would Hale really approach Anna with some sort of demand or deal this evening? The stage was set but was the play the one they all thought, or was it hoped, it would be? Jollo just didn‘t know!
Of all the strange occurrences to plague recent times Anna had to admit the Reaper Jump Liner Ball was among the most outwardly extreme. The idea had been her own (founded on sound logic) but the reality under these circumstances seemed like a vision conceived in an asylum.
Anna felt remote as if she was running on autopilot in the back seat - surprising herself with her own choices - for example: The RJL Administrator wasn’t sure what she had been thinking. The Lady in White had just seemed to pop into her head. It was scary how appropriate it was - to Anna it represented herself as both a victim and protagonist! Since the ‘Argon Incentive’ everything had felt rather surreal and herself like a ghost drifting through the ruins of her own life, and yet Anna had seduced her Commander a very physical, and very real event. To add to Anna’s confusion she wasn’t sure if she was subliminally trying to warn that Argon of her duplicity or using the also erotic costume to continue the game with Carl? Then again was Carl irrelevant to this dressing up choice, thought Anna, and all this introspection just paranoia, and a sad way to feel sorry for herself! Yet it wouldn’t let her go Anna knew all her actions had been cursed with an uncomfortable split a duality recently.
The former PA realised she had been involved in so many deceits that she was no longer entirely sure of her own position. At some point the line between show and intent had become blurred. Anna was appalled to think this was what she had wanted (to be in the thick of things) in the field - dealing with Argons instead of arithmetic - how naïve!
The RJL Administrator turned to consider Gregor her ex boss was back on top. Was it possible he had always been there - playing everyone - as he had in part hinted before. Just how in control of himself was that Gregor, and did it matter? What was that old friend jibe to the Commander about? Damn the AFC 4 figurehead he was probably just keeping them both a bit off balance with a throw away remark that cost but a moments rash release. Anna found herself wondering if the gun that was holstered as part of the costume was a real one, and if Gregor was wearing body armour underneath the fake pilot suit, maybe she should ask Ravn?
Anna knew Ravn had despaired at the flimsiness of her dress the fact that it could hide nothing! Sometimes the big veteran actually seemed to care beyond mere duty. Well of all people Anna realised she should understand that killers were Argons too! Even the monsters that had taken her mother no doubt cared for somebody or at the least deluded themselves that they did. Anna half wished she could believe in Black and White - Good versus Evil - then again if she did on which side of the divide would she fall? Anna feared she was on a very slippery slope (with a start she realised her latest actions might have been cheerfully undertaken by the amoral, and most hated Shimoo). Certainly flaunting her body had often been Shimoo’s weapon of choice, and something Anna openly despised - yet here she was all but exposing herself - in the hope of what? Opening a distracting crack in her unknown opponents armour? Or was it possibly something else for example: A from of penance - a deliberately self degrading exercise - was she so full of self loathing that she was now punishing herself? Anna seriously wondered if a part of her deep down considered Anna Dei fully responsible for all the ill’s of her existence including the unknown fate of her Mother, how deeply had that comment by Fay bitten?
Thinking about Fay reminded Anna that the Commander in Chief had dropped hints that she knew who the kidnapper was, but had stubbornly refused to fill in the blank! Nonetheless, she had made the claim that the perpetrator would be here in person this evening. Was the felon already here? Was the fekker hiding behind a white skull mask concealed in a black cloak, and voluminous hood or was he among the dead. The thought of such close proximity made Anna shiver to her added horror partially with an excitement rather than trepidation - something that almost made her feel ill - it made her wonder about how much control anybody has over their emotional nature? Did the fact that you naturally responded inside in a certain way make you good or bad, or was it what you permitted yourself to do, or not do - with these feelings - was that what really counted?
Forcing herself to take a deep breath Anna recalled that yellow disk that served her so well. This was no time to be silly it was stupid to berate herself for having normal Argon mixed emotions. In truth the RJL Administrator knew she had several very important jobs to do this night the least of which was to act out her performance as the hostess. Where she wondered was Garrin? Was the young Argon still fussing over his unusual costume?
Garrin was feeling strangely nervous, getting dressed with the aid of two of his bodyguards, as it was a tricky apparatus until the suspensor fields stabilised. Garrin suddenly felt not just a physical weight but also an emotional burden land upon him. What the fek was he doing? How had he got himself entangled in such a huge venture, it all felt rather unreal like a crazy dream? While G was just about a silent partner in his own business, and that was how he wanted it - the speed and scale of everything was filling his pants with belated worries! Anna seemed to be spending credits without stint, and they had yet to carry a single passenger. Frankly Garrin was afraid to look at the accounts at the moment. As much as the courier trusted the very able RJL Administrator it still made him sweat crate loads of salty water.
Finally all ready G ambled a little wobbly over to the Goner Transport Device well he wasn’t traversing the station like this not until he got used to the feel of the thing. It wouldn’t do to be bouncing off walls or other people in the narrow corridor spaces, besides how the fek could he use a standard transit module.
When he arrived in the designated empty space with the usual flare of light and vibrating timbre it was one hell of an entrance. In fact a degree of sporadic applause, and laughter rippled out from the assembled masses. Garrin looked perfectly normal dressed in his everyday pilots suit, but hovering directly behind him, and over his shoulder was a towering spectre of a Grim Reaper (including a very real looking scythe) complete with moving arms, and head running on animatronics it was a show stealer. The very fact that the skeletal scythe wielding figure was a solid object - rather than a more easily created holographic projection - gave it a very serious yet at the same time slightly comic presence. That Garrin’s Reaper seemed to be able to pick out individuals from the crowd to menace with a scowl or a sort of wink from its glowing if empty eye sockets, not to mention flourishing its sinister weapon, and making various beckoning, and rude hand gestures all adding to the marvel of the substantive illusion.
Anna couldn’t help but smile; she wondered was it possible that anyone would top Garrin’s display. What worried her was what would happen to the beast after the Ball she had a bad feeling it would end up being installed permanently in the main RJL office. In some ways G was just a big bouncy child, still maybe it would serve as an attraction and form one more part of the Legend Anna was seeking to build. The former PA was just wondering what else it could do when it regarded her with the equivalent of a surprisingly mobile leer, winked its glowing eyes and said, “Well hello sweet thing!” Garrin sniggered. Anna just shook her head, she found herself wondering if any of the females here would be able to tell in the cycles ahead: how a certain infamous Courier, and businessman had got death to tempt them into his cockpit!
“So what have I missed,” asked Garrin, “apart from the opportunity to stare at your remarkable err costume Anna!”
Anna found herself blushing to her own consternation, and Garrin’s deeper amusement before she could answer however death cut in with, “how about a drink dear?”
“Why not,” said Anna, “say G why don’t you introduce me to your better mannered friend.”
“Anna GR, GR Anna,” said Garrin playing along.
The Reaper gave a toothy grin, “delighted,” it said offering over a bony hand.
Anna realised somebody had to be running it by camera, and remote it was just too responsive for a simple program.
“Behave yourself bony this one is off limits,” said Garrin.
“You all belong to me,” replied GR, “but you could be right G, on close inspection, not enough meat on the bone!”
Anna looked lost for a moment then burst out laughing, “Now that is hypocrisy!”
“What about that one over there,” said the Reaper pointing with its scythe.
“Hmmm,” said Garrin, “she has distinct possibilities.”
“Very distinct,” replied GR.
“I give up,” retorted Anna.
“Ohh I want one,” said Gregor laughing indicating the Reaper automaton.
However the Reaper replied, “Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve I’d rather get the hold of two!”
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 64 – An Unusual Party
The ‘Hall of Stars’ was a large function space, famous for its wall of lateral and horizontal curving windows. The heavy-duty transparent barrier made up one whole side facing out into the - terrifyingly close - empty depths of the endless night. Music was already playing from hidden speakers, but at this time of the evening only in the background, and none of the tracks were overly energetic. This was the period when it was expected the early arriving guests would prefer to talk, mingle, and settle in. As well as the stars outside multiple projectors had brought space within including glowing swirling planets, and gaseous nebulae. Occasionally a CGI Transport would jump in or out among the projected stars to escape the Reaper. A grotesque projection of the thief of souls constantly stalked the walls, and ceilings in an endless vigil reaching, and clawing at the empty air - sweeping its scythe - in an eternal quest for new souls to carry away.
Carl in full AF dark blue, and black dress uniform felt unmanned, and undone when he finally spied out the distinctive forms of Anna, and Gregor among the Reapers and Spectres. The Police Commanders lover looked ethereal in every sense: dressed in a simple but flowing white gown. The basic garment a mere sheet of cloth (compared to many of the more richly brocaded, tailored, and resplendent guests outfits) nonetheless - in Carl’s eyes the white - outshined them all by its clean lines alone. Carl easily appreciated such simplistic, and naturalistic purity! To the Commanders mixed delight, and embarrassed horror the shroud (despite fully covering the females body) only emphasised the naked form that could be glimpsed beneath - as a very mobile, and nubile shadow - although the tantalising image was just noticeable, this somehow made it all the more attractive to the eye. Carl found it difficult not to stare every time his new partner moved in front of the ever-roaming tight beam spotlights. The beams that tracked, and briefly picked out individuals, and tight groups at random upon the dance floor!
Watching Anna approach Carl felt like he lay under some ridiculous eldritch enchantment - everything he had been thinking all his work related concerns suddenly felt surreal, and irrelevant. Instead all the AFC 4 head of security could do was study the apparition before him. Carl noticed for example: the Administrators face, arms and hands were paler than normal, pale as bone her lips unadorned but still defined themselves - standing apart - from the rest of her flesh via a moist hint of her living breath, and natural colour. Even by some wizardry Anna’s jade green eyes appeared to mirror the association of their now marble cool frame - still glowing bright - only frostily (as if animated by a internal spirit that burned as only ice burns, with a fierce, and surprising chill).
The overall vision thought Carl, was one fit to grasp uplift and yet shatter the wounded heart. Finally the spectacle was topped by Anna’s lightened (normally dirty fair) now almost white hair which floated lose, and untamed around her face like a primitive halo: one perhaps scribbled by an innocent childish hand to surround a deadly in its perfection angelic face! The ghostly Lady in White Persona fitted the female Argon like a knife fitted its wound: at once tragic and ideal. Anna’s face looking away for an instant as she replied to an inquiry from Gregor revealed a profile that was almost unrelieved in its sculpted sharp coldness, yet beautiful in its controlled precision. While her body seemed rife with a powerfully twisted sexual yearning, an unreachable otherworldly seduction - fearful but magnetic.
The combined package for Carl was a lure that attracted above, and beyond the more natural, and proper repulsion one would usually associate with a ghostly herald of suffering, pain and doom, and yet… Carl had rarely experienced such an insanely marvellous bleakness since the loud, and savage time when he had been in the Mobile Artillery. Somehow on the instant the ghostly vision made him revisit, and value that sorrow: feeling like a late accusation of an unexpected degenerating, and unhealthy mental state. The depths of the depression had dropped upon the Commander from nowhere. Faces long gone floated before Carls minds eye like misplaced siblings - the deceased from the friendly fire incident first among them - oddly this assault on his rationality made him smile another aspect that felt like a peculiar, and unhealthy inversion - even a paradox in itself! Carl was proud, and happy that he still remembered all their names, and their faces, that he still carried the heavy burden. The Police Commander willingly accepted the distress. Luckily the moment passed as all distractions - a shadow play - cast by an invisible spotlight on his soul.
Shaking off the momentary lapse Carl looked outward once more. Following Anna’s final approach it was as if mythology, and reality had collided here to take a truer form. The PA now Reaper Jump Liner Administrator was like a soft pale flame both dangerous: capable of causing a conflagration by its mere touch, yet fearfully fragile as only the deepest beauty can ever be! Carl was shocked. It almost felt like Anna had stripped away the very outward appearance to reveal much of his inner confusion, and made it manifest in the real (substantial material) world - a domain where no such edifice had any legitimate right to exist as touchable physical solid matter.
To Carl the vision of Anna before him was not just a picture of the outer surface but also of the inner perception - that overlaid it! Anna’s grief but grace under the loss of her Mother, and the fire, and frost of Carl, and Anna’s own relationship: all that was done but not said, all that was felt but not known, all that was feared, and looked away from - all these spirits revealed in a mocking yet solemn form!
There were many legends, and stories of Ladies in White even right up to contemporary times, surprisingly technology had never banished the Argon fervour for tragic, and terrifying ghost stories. In some The Lady was a sorrow that pleaded in confused silence to be laid to rest, in many others the irresistible lure to a supernatural snare! In his youth Carl would have mocked the concept of any female form being irresistible (as in beyond the limits of his own selfish desires, and self control) but tonight as he moved forward all such youthful certainty seemed to be cast off, and was left behind him. If the loss of such innocent delusion wasn’t terrifying - the Commander didn’t know what was!
“Anna you look… breathtaking,” said Carl.
The Police Commander understanding the fullness of the term for the first time in his life. Really he wanted to take her hand and drag her off where they could be very actively alone! The female Argon was like a fire in his veins.
“Thank you! I see my Knight has arrived to the joust in his tabard of office. I hope this is not going to be just an official appearance,” said Anna raising an eyebrow with an incredibly cute half smile upon her cool sharp, but subtly painted face.
“I know,” confessed the Commander, “I just couldn’t bring myself to fully join the game, to become one of the grimly masked or the walking dead,” said Carl, “nonetheless I will feel far deader, and un-restful inside if we don’t - dance - many times before this night is through!” the pairs eyes locked.
“Well spoken Commander you shock me with your unexpected eloquence,” said Gregor butting in on the private moment while moving over to stand nearby, “really though - dress uniform - you need to let go, and embrace every one of life’s unexpected opportunities, eh old friend! All these Reapers,” the AFC 4 Administrator continued gesturing around with more drama than sincerity, “certainly help you to realise that all our days are short, and numbered, do they not?”
“I suppose I might obtain one of the complimentary masks, and cloaks later,” replied Carl looking at Gregor’s own uniform. Carl found the artfully cracked helmet that the Administrator held under the crook of his left arm particularly disturbing, “so did you dream of being a navy pilot in your childhood?”
“Indeed, even on many occasions of being the posthumous hero - how absurd is that - to actually desire before your life has even begun: a dramatic fall, and a tear filled send off, as if that was a full purpose in itself - how youth is corrupted! Now I know I can better serve the Argon by living. As glorious, and inspirational as our deceased heroes are, if their sacrifice is to have more than symbolic meaning, we who they have protected must build upon the deeds of our own lives. Prove we are individually worthy of the selfless honour bestowed upon us. We must forge ever ahead to make better less wicked times!” said Gregor.
Carl winced - seeing the floating camera late - Gregor was incorrigible, and had probably been making little speeches without end (since he arrived) in the hope one or another would be broadcast to a wide audience! Well that was the last free lead in Carl was going to give the fekker - if he could help himself! The Commander hated being used casually for others ends. No wonder Gregor had been willing to go along with the scheme it was just more free personal publicity.
Jollo had easily secured a belated invitation to the Masked ball. Suewyn was more than delighted to have the AF VP come along. Since the Vice President had arrived ill prepared, and really just wanted to observe more than interact he was happy to procure a standard free Grim Reaper mask, cloak, and yes even the inflatable scythe! Well Jollo hoped to soon be just one more indistinguishable skull face. Once he would have felt more than a little uncomfortable dressing up as a character, but it was surprising how many business events had even worse themed nights than this - at least for an aging Argons dignity!
Jollo didn’t really consider himself the party type, but he had learned long ago that in business it didn’t pay to be anything other than flexible. Luckily when he did show up a little late, and was checked through security, the cameras focus lay momentarily elsewhere! The RJL, AF, AFC4, and Argon Navy security were keeping the reporters away from the immediate entrance much to their vociferous annoyance (even the automatic camera drones were being excluded via some sophisticated selective short range area electronic jamming devices). This was an unusual call by RJL which allowed checked masked guests to retain a degree of optional anonymity - the formal herald of any arriving guest also being optional rather than a straight forward, and automatic etiquette.
For all the above reasons the VP found it easy to slip in to the bizarre affair - quietly with a minimum off fuss. Wearing a mask, and deep hood as an individual target he was of little use to the gutter press. In fact it amused Jollo to shake his scythe at the main knot of media vultures as he passed. As useful as publicity often was - given the opportunity - on occasion Jollo would be more than happy to cut more than a few of these empty headed egotists down to size. It always amazed the ArgonForge VIP that media jocks had such big heads given all they did was look presentable, and talk for a living! Long, long ago Jollo had studied media at the Academy - a little something on the side - so he knew modern anchor-Argons didn’t even edit their material while the cameras mostly ran on tried, and trusted automatic algorithms. Many of these famous individuals didn’t even speak their own words or do their own research they were just faces on screens.
The old style intrepid investigative journalist - which he had romanticised about - was now mostly a thing of the past, or very freelance, and exceptionally dodgy! Such wild cards would never get aboard AFC 4 at this time. Modern Cycle Freelance journalists often had links with criminality following or belonging to Pirate Clans or even instigating other unlawful activity in order to capture the occurrence on lens. No freelancer could afford to rely on luck they needed a steady stream of creditworthy items. When it came to finding needles the Universe was a very large haystack. Most useful images for example: moving or stills now came in from ordinary people, or through automatic systems that just happened to be on scene at the time - such material would be bought up by the syndicates, and then rented out on a pay per use basis to individual channels, and shows.
These cycles making money out of gathering news was a hard business indeed - prices were low because most events were caught on multiple cameras. Cameras were everywhere. On AP for example most civilians had their cameras constantly buzzing around themselves - following like pets on a short leash. Expensive units had become more than utilitarian they had become - foolish fashion accessories - often with weird subsidiary functions, a few even acted as communication devices that could plug into the Inter Link. It wasn’t too difficult to locate Gregor as he was hovering around his former PA who was looking splendid in what Jollo called - a saucy white shift - now there was a picture worth taking thought Jollo! It was almost a pity Anna had a mind, and not just - that body - because of her intelligence she was off limits as a plaything! Still there was no harm in imagining… the Commander was a lucky son of a Teladi!
Now the question was where was the Admiral? Knowing Sven he won’t be easily missed - no doubt the Oracle was waiting to make a grand entrance. Would Hale really approach Anna with some sort of demand or deal this evening? The stage was set but was the play the one they all thought, or was it hoped, it would be? Jollo just didn‘t know!
Of all the strange occurrences to plague recent times Anna had to admit the Reaper Jump Liner Ball was among the most outwardly extreme. The idea had been her own (founded on sound logic) but the reality under these circumstances seemed like a vision conceived in an asylum.
Anna felt remote as if she was running on autopilot in the back seat - surprising herself with her own choices - for example: The RJL Administrator wasn’t sure what she had been thinking. The Lady in White had just seemed to pop into her head. It was scary how appropriate it was - to Anna it represented herself as both a victim and protagonist! Since the ‘Argon Incentive’ everything had felt rather surreal and herself like a ghost drifting through the ruins of her own life, and yet Anna had seduced her Commander a very physical, and very real event. To add to Anna’s confusion she wasn’t sure if she was subliminally trying to warn that Argon of her duplicity or using the also erotic costume to continue the game with Carl? Then again was Carl irrelevant to this dressing up choice, thought Anna, and all this introspection just paranoia, and a sad way to feel sorry for herself! Yet it wouldn’t let her go Anna knew all her actions had been cursed with an uncomfortable split a duality recently.
The former PA realised she had been involved in so many deceits that she was no longer entirely sure of her own position. At some point the line between show and intent had become blurred. Anna was appalled to think this was what she had wanted (to be in the thick of things) in the field - dealing with Argons instead of arithmetic - how naïve!
The RJL Administrator turned to consider Gregor her ex boss was back on top. Was it possible he had always been there - playing everyone - as he had in part hinted before. Just how in control of himself was that Gregor, and did it matter? What was that old friend jibe to the Commander about? Damn the AFC 4 figurehead he was probably just keeping them both a bit off balance with a throw away remark that cost but a moments rash release. Anna found herself wondering if the gun that was holstered as part of the costume was a real one, and if Gregor was wearing body armour underneath the fake pilot suit, maybe she should ask Ravn?
Anna knew Ravn had despaired at the flimsiness of her dress the fact that it could hide nothing! Sometimes the big veteran actually seemed to care beyond mere duty. Well of all people Anna realised she should understand that killers were Argons too! Even the monsters that had taken her mother no doubt cared for somebody or at the least deluded themselves that they did. Anna half wished she could believe in Black and White - Good versus Evil - then again if she did on which side of the divide would she fall? Anna feared she was on a very slippery slope (with a start she realised her latest actions might have been cheerfully undertaken by the amoral, and most hated Shimoo). Certainly flaunting her body had often been Shimoo’s weapon of choice, and something Anna openly despised - yet here she was all but exposing herself - in the hope of what? Opening a distracting crack in her unknown opponents armour? Or was it possibly something else for example: A from of penance - a deliberately self degrading exercise - was she so full of self loathing that she was now punishing herself? Anna seriously wondered if a part of her deep down considered Anna Dei fully responsible for all the ill’s of her existence including the unknown fate of her Mother, how deeply had that comment by Fay bitten?
Thinking about Fay reminded Anna that the Commander in Chief had dropped hints that she knew who the kidnapper was, but had stubbornly refused to fill in the blank! Nonetheless, she had made the claim that the perpetrator would be here in person this evening. Was the felon already here? Was the fekker hiding behind a white skull mask concealed in a black cloak, and voluminous hood or was he among the dead. The thought of such close proximity made Anna shiver to her added horror partially with an excitement rather than trepidation - something that almost made her feel ill - it made her wonder about how much control anybody has over their emotional nature? Did the fact that you naturally responded inside in a certain way make you good or bad, or was it what you permitted yourself to do, or not do - with these feelings - was that what really counted?
Forcing herself to take a deep breath Anna recalled that yellow disk that served her so well. This was no time to be silly it was stupid to berate herself for having normal Argon mixed emotions. In truth the RJL Administrator knew she had several very important jobs to do this night the least of which was to act out her performance as the hostess. Where she wondered was Garrin? Was the young Argon still fussing over his unusual costume?
Garrin was feeling strangely nervous, getting dressed with the aid of two of his bodyguards, as it was a tricky apparatus until the suspensor fields stabilised. Garrin suddenly felt not just a physical weight but also an emotional burden land upon him. What the fek was he doing? How had he got himself entangled in such a huge venture, it all felt rather unreal like a crazy dream? While G was just about a silent partner in his own business, and that was how he wanted it - the speed and scale of everything was filling his pants with belated worries! Anna seemed to be spending credits without stint, and they had yet to carry a single passenger. Frankly Garrin was afraid to look at the accounts at the moment. As much as the courier trusted the very able RJL Administrator it still made him sweat crate loads of salty water.
Finally all ready G ambled a little wobbly over to the Goner Transport Device well he wasn’t traversing the station like this not until he got used to the feel of the thing. It wouldn’t do to be bouncing off walls or other people in the narrow corridor spaces, besides how the fek could he use a standard transit module.
When he arrived in the designated empty space with the usual flare of light and vibrating timbre it was one hell of an entrance. In fact a degree of sporadic applause, and laughter rippled out from the assembled masses. Garrin looked perfectly normal dressed in his everyday pilots suit, but hovering directly behind him, and over his shoulder was a towering spectre of a Grim Reaper (including a very real looking scythe) complete with moving arms, and head running on animatronics it was a show stealer. The very fact that the skeletal scythe wielding figure was a solid object - rather than a more easily created holographic projection - gave it a very serious yet at the same time slightly comic presence. That Garrin’s Reaper seemed to be able to pick out individuals from the crowd to menace with a scowl or a sort of wink from its glowing if empty eye sockets, not to mention flourishing its sinister weapon, and making various beckoning, and rude hand gestures all adding to the marvel of the substantive illusion.
Anna couldn’t help but smile; she wondered was it possible that anyone would top Garrin’s display. What worried her was what would happen to the beast after the Ball she had a bad feeling it would end up being installed permanently in the main RJL office. In some ways G was just a big bouncy child, still maybe it would serve as an attraction and form one more part of the Legend Anna was seeking to build. The former PA was just wondering what else it could do when it regarded her with the equivalent of a surprisingly mobile leer, winked its glowing eyes and said, “Well hello sweet thing!” Garrin sniggered. Anna just shook her head, she found herself wondering if any of the females here would be able to tell in the cycles ahead: how a certain infamous Courier, and businessman had got death to tempt them into his cockpit!
“So what have I missed,” asked Garrin, “apart from the opportunity to stare at your remarkable err costume Anna!”
Anna found herself blushing to her own consternation, and Garrin’s deeper amusement before she could answer however death cut in with, “how about a drink dear?”
“Why not,” said Anna, “say G why don’t you introduce me to your better mannered friend.”
“Anna GR, GR Anna,” said Garrin playing along.
The Reaper gave a toothy grin, “delighted,” it said offering over a bony hand.
Anna realised somebody had to be running it by camera, and remote it was just too responsive for a simple program.
“Behave yourself bony this one is off limits,” said Garrin.
“You all belong to me,” replied GR, “but you could be right G, on close inspection, not enough meat on the bone!”
Anna looked lost for a moment then burst out laughing, “Now that is hypocrisy!”
“What about that one over there,” said the Reaper pointing with its scythe.
“Hmmm,” said Garrin, “she has distinct possibilities.”
“Very distinct,” replied GR.
“I give up,” retorted Anna.
“Ohh I want one,” said Gregor laughing indicating the Reaper automaton.
However the Reaper replied, “Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve I’d rather get the hold of two!”
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Thu, 1. May 08, 13:24, edited 2 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 65 – The Revenant of Eighteen Billion
The Admiral Sven Hale felt good - this was a role he looked forward to playing - in fact he felt filled to almost bursting with a thrill of excitement at the prospect. Not only was it entirely appropriate that he herald in the Trial in this manner - the dream seemed closer than ever - it wouldn’t be long now. Soon the house of cards would begin to topple. Tonight promised to be fun. It wasn’t very often that he got to mix socially with the principle targets in his schemes (at least not outside sterile, and dry Argon Prime political gatherings). AP social events were by and large nothing like this so-called launch party promised to be - this one would be something else!
Sven wondered what his opponents believed would happen next, no doubt they imagined Sven or one of his agents would attempt to co-opting Anna in some manner. The Admiral grinned it wouldn’t do to disappoint expectations too much. Sven also questioned whether Fay would be in attendance he hoped so. It would be rather amusing to get the old witch up for a dance - would she be able to keep up with him - it was a pity they were moving in time to different tunes. The Admiral Sven Hale found he was smiling to himself - it was kind of the Reaper Jump Liner outfit to provide a distraction from the increasingly tense business of counting down the moments to the revelation. How bittersweet was expectation, mused the Argon also known as the Oracle.
Sven was also glad this was not another of Gregor’s rather dull AF affairs. ArgonForge was a dependable outfit at what it did, but it lacked the dynamism, and risk taking drive of some of the newer corporations. In truth AF was little more than a puppet of the old guard - it followed the vector traced out before it - it didn’t scout out new territory as much as it liked to pretend it did. AF might have a reasonably if erratically successful R&D department, but beyond that... Worse yet ArgonForge had joined forces with many other deluded bodies in falling for the glamour of the filthy Goner, and Terran Technologists. Any Goner or Terran alliance filled Sven with a righteous, and glorious anger. The Eighteen Billion screamed in his ears for justice for this unholy betrayal, and the Admiral planned to ensure every member of that impossible number received their due payment in full. ArgonForge’s premature alignment would be this corporations undoing - even if the final fate of the weapon manufacturer was a small matter, and of little concern to the Admirals overall scheme.
A slightly rattled Sven finally entered the Ball minus his stripped off metallic claws - they were deemed a health, and safety risk by the RJL guards. No surprise there but still annoying. Well at least this action might help to convince the local fools that they had given him a thorough, and comprehensive search. If this was the case then perhaps that action was - even a bonus of sorts - nonetheless it still rankled to have part of his costume confiscated by these rank amateurs, he thought a little huffily.
Upon seeing the Grim Reaper puppet behind Garrin Sven felt even more annoyed. The toy had what looked like a real - very sharp - scythe in its no doubt pneumatic clutches, and that had been passed as acceptable? The device made Sven wish he had taken more of an interest in such details. The animated construct could have had - interesting possibilities - for a control hack.
Forcing a smile he relaxed the Admiral told himself that it was - after all - Garrin, and Anna’s party, if these two didn’t have some right to bend the rules among the assembly nobody did? What wasn’t that slut nearly wearing though - really he had thought better of the former PA’s taste from previous encounters. Then the significance struck him: being well versed in mythology and legend, of course the Lady in White… very clever!
“A remarkable, and rather off putting costume,” said Gregor rushing over to deliver a more or less pre arranged script, “tell me Admiral what is it you are representing exactly?”
“Gregor I’m surprise you didn’t get the reference, I am the Revenant of the Eighteen Billion souls slain by the Xenon,” returned the Admiral flourishing his cloak of screaming skulls while his mechanistic breast plate blinked with twinkling lights and its surface worked through a series of constant movements. Some parts rotating others were sliding back and forth with mysterious effort.
“Fascinating,” said the AFC 4 Administrator, “who do you believe is the greatest threat to the Argon Federation then the Xenon or the Khaak?”
“Neither,” replied Admiral Hale, “It is my belief that we ourselves are our own worst enemy. When the Argon have conquered our own divisive inclinations, and commenced to truly cooperate - then and only then - will all our external enemies be crushed? We are a truly dynamic species Gregor, but still a little too obsessed with private selfish interests rather than service. When we mature a great future lies ahead of us!”
“Spoken like a true Patriot,” replied Gregor, “it is good to see somebody in the military has some future vision beyond the realm of mere strategic withdrawal’s, holding actions, and forced bloody tactical necessities - described as heroic victories.”
“The Xenon - most able servants,” said GR as Garrin, and his hovering friend joined the clot of figures congealing around the new guest like blood around an open wound.
“I’m sure you see the Xenon that way,” replied Garrin playing along with the puppet, “personally I could do without those Metal Heads chasing me all over the Universe.”
“That is a nice dream,” said an unspecified male Argon hovering nearby in a Reaper outfit, “to be without the Xenon - is that ever likely in your estimation Admiral?”
“Anything is possible with the right will,” replied Sven.
Privately the so-called Oracle believed it was most unlikely - at least via head on confrontation. The Xenon went deep into true Outer Space - far deeper than the Argon ever ventured outside the Grids or would be comfortable venturing, and the machines could replicate themselves far faster than even the most prolific race could breed. Besides they must be far more efficient in their ability to harvest raw materials having little need to fear pollution, plus they had no aesthetic, political or biological restraints.
Sven Hale considered the Khaak a minor menace in comparison to the Xenon. In time the Khaak as unreasonable as they currently appeared might yet be brought into the fold - never the Xenon - the machines were just gears in a universe wide engine of conversion, you can’t reason with gears, you could talk as much as you liked they would just keep on chewing!
“Well I don’t much care for that sentiment,” replied the unknown Reaper rather rudely, “slim possibilities based on ethereal emotional boosts to a supposed lack of determination - I never noticed - among my own people, that my friend is a poor margin on which to make any sort of solid estimation of future policy. Really as an - Oracle - you surprise me. Either the Xenon can be eradicated in your estimation or they can’t - which is it?”
“As things stand I would say they would provide some unique difficulties - for a start it would be foolish to open up another serious front at this time! In a way this is exactly the point I was making our efforts, and resources are too divided already, too uncoordinated,” said the Admiral smoothly.
“So what would it take to bring about this miraculous increase in our forces abilities,” said the Reaper pushing, “more than a mere rhetoric of unity - I suspect?”
“Defining our weaknesses, and seeking to eradicate them is hardly rhetoric,” interjected Gregor, “a real visionary policy is what this current Senate seems to lack, all I see is second hand reaction to external initiatives!”
“More cheap sentiment without substance - what is the alternative policy you are espousing - where is this fractured effort in the current system? How would we unite from it? I for one care little for dictatorships, and or military juntas if that is the target of your suggestion,” said the Reaper.
“Don’t dare put those words into my mouth sir, especially whilst you hide behind a mask in this debate,” said Hale fuming.
Sven wondered who was this upstart? Given the etiquette of the Ball he couldn’t ask. Whoever the stranger was though, he had better hope I never find out, thought Hale. Was it a player, a loud mouth, or an agent provocateur?
“Fight, fight, fight…” chorused GR waving its scythe about in the air.
“Ah, truly I apologise, obviously I mistook the meaning of your words. I am glad to see the idea offends you Admiral Hale as much as it offends myself. I am heartened to hear you firmly support our - democratic - Senate!” said the unknown Argon.
“Accepted! My support for democracy is unstinting, thus I suspect I owe you a debt of gratitude - I certainly wouldn’t want to be misrepresented - luckily the issue is now fully clarified,” said Sven Hale.
“Hardly,” returned the argumentative Argon, “you still haven’t stated the true nature of your obviously worthy proposal.”
“Well it was a general comment really,” confessed the Admiral, “Truly it would be remiss of me to pontificate too deeply on such matters. The informality of this occasion perhaps over loosened my reserve. I must thank you again for reminding me - inadvertently - of the difficulty of misinterpretation: how the wrong association so easily accrues when an actively serving military Argon is drawn to comment on matters of civilian policy.”
“Well that is interesting in itself Admiral the fact that you deem our lack of martial success to be a civil - rather than a military deficiency!” said the unknown Argon swiftly.
“I didn’t say that either!” noted Hale very coldly.
“I love a good argument,” said GR with an evil grin looking back and forth at the two principle protagonists.
“Maybe this mask is confusing my hearing,” said the unnamed Argon, “but we were discussing the Xenon problem, and you said you didn’t want to comment on civilian matters. That suggests to me you believe our failures are down to what - a lack of civilian or governmental support - or is it the Corporations that you are hunting with your ire Admiral?”
“I’m not hunting anyone nor flinging accusations. However, as you insist on forcing me to correct you on this matter,” said Sven, “What I was eluding to was the fact that all military ventures obviously require a degree of civil support. I do not doubt that the people, and government, and yes the corporations are firmly behind our efforts, but logistical systems can always be improved or better integrated. Running the War effort as we do on the vagaries of commercial enterprises is not without its hazards.”
“Take the very Trial here,” continued the Admiral, “as a prime example: If this complex had been under direct military protection I doubt it would have been so readily compromised. Nor am I berating ArgonForge for any lack of diligence - it is a simple question of divergent priorities. A Corporation fights its own battles those of profit and loss - the military measures its success via differing criteria. I like to imagine the Navy for example measures its effectiveness in its ability to secure a future for the Argon species as a whole! What do we care about the financial cost, such a benison is beyond value a question of honour, and duty not credits!”
“Yet even the Navy must operate in the real universe, and under real economics Admiral. You cannot be suggesting that by militarising production items would be cheaper than those manufactured under the competition of a free market economy?” questioned the masked Argon.
“Perhaps not cheaper,” said the Admiral, “nor perhaps even desirable - as a sweeping policy - but certain key complexes should perhaps be protected, and the goods they produce controlled directly by the military for the sake of good security alone! As to economics as matters stand we sometimes find ourselves forced to buy weapons produced in our own Argon Forges back from Teladi or other traders. Frankly paying a mark up to supply our own forces with weapons manufactured in our own space offends me - it is a ludicrous waste of effort and credits!”
“Trust me,” continued Sven, “I could spend all evening listing other systematic failings, and minor improvements, but I have no desire to bore this company further or to talk too readily outside my prime remit. Nonetheless, off the top of my head, secure weapons transport by military ships or convoy to prevent the current gross loss of material to piracy would be another logical step forward. Freelance pilots ferrying sensitive goods may generate extra income for traders, but at what real cost to our universes stability. Insurance won‘t cover the future lives lost when these dangerous commodities are turned upon our own!”
“Interesting,” replied the masked Reaper, “what worries me is the fact that small but varied changes of this nature tend to cascade into larger shall we say movements, and spheres of influence - sometimes the cure is more dangerous than the disease! Civilian freedom is a very fragile commodity - Admiral - it cannot be bought or maintained at the point of a gun. Fleets, and weapons as tools are naturally enforcements (restraining). True freedom is about letting go - not fencing off - limiting or controlling! It is the Senates stern duty to ensure that such worthy guardians as yourself don’t - unwittingly - become oppressors rather than protectors: be it by accident or the product of a benevolent but misguided design to save us from ourselves.”
“Indeed, which is why I simply follow the orders I am given,” replied Admiral Hale once again amicable, “really it is such citizens as Gregor here, or Garrin with his bright new business venture that should be pointing out the way ahead.”
“Please anything but that…way ahead - dead ahead,” rudely interrupted GR with a mocking titter and scythe flourish.
“Behave,” returned G.
To Garrin’s mild embarrassment he belatedly understood that he might have made a mistake. The RJL Partner didn’t want to be held responsible for the words and actions of a creature over which - due to the set up - he had little direct control. G wondered which of the security guards was currently running his puppet. Garrin imagined the operators would all eschew individual responsibility - if he challenged them later - over aggravating the important guest.
“Hmmm,” continued Hale, “As I was saying,” he found himself giving the animated puppet a hard look to his own growing chagrin. It was easy to forget the thing wasn‘t real in this setting, “it is rather…” damn for a moment he floundered having lost his train of thought, “It is merely a Commanders duty,” he continued, “to see how best to obtain a very set, and limited range of objectives - within the remit of a narrowly fixed jurisdiction. You asked a hypothetical question, and I gave in my opinion - a hypothetical answer - from my perspective,” continued Sven determined to regain his momentum but sure it was lost, “I must say - visiting such intangibles as you have delineated - I am glad I am no politician!”
“I’m sure you are,” replied the unknown masked Argon with a dark chuckle.
After all politicians might be held accountable to the electorate for their actions, thought Jollo Gardna. He suspected Sven would rather keep it the other way around. The military Argon was clearly no democrat for all his affirmations to the contrary.
Well the Admiral had certainly made an unexpected effort with his attire, thought Anna. It was impressive, the former PA also wondered who the masked Reaper was that had challenged Hales sermon. Once inside identity cards were hidden away and when figures had been mingling it was hard to tell some Reapers apart. Eighteen Billion the Admiral was right to remind people of that horrendous figure. The Xenon had always filled Anna with a degree of fascination but also a cold dread. They were the very stuff of nightmares relentless, unfeeling, uncompromising, and it often seemed unstoppable!
“I commend you on your costume Admiral,” said Anna playing the friendly hostess.
“Thank you Lady,” said the Admiral bowing, “I find your own choice interesting. While the puppet is quite a remarkable feat - how long did it take to construct?”
“I don’t know old bony here is a modified unit - belonging to a children’s entertainer of my acquaintance. It is amazing some of the people you meet doing courier runs. It was more a question of last moment modifications than construction,” noted Garrin.
“I’ve always been here,” replied GR menacingly, “I don’t know what the fool is talking about! Do you think the poor mortal has finally lost his mind?”
“Without doubt,” said Anna with a smirk, “why do you haunt him so?”
“I wish I knew…I suppose it is something of a fixation,” said GR laughing.
“You’re all mad,” said Carl with a grin.
Anna was weary she was tired from desperately, ruthlessly circulating in the hope of making herself approachable to a contact. The RJL Administrator asked herself how many times had she danced with death, and how many different deaths had she danced with? Although the former PA had been avoiding alcohol she was beginning to feel decidedly hung over as she passed among the sea of twisted ghoulish faces and skull masks. Hope was fast giving way to the heavy burden of despair as the cycle lengthened. Had it all been for nothing? Garrin, and her had made their little speeches, and without doubt the whole thing had generated a huge amount of publicity, but at the moment Anna could hardly care less about that!
In the ebb and flow she found herself being partnered by a two left footed, and slightly wobbly Aelo. Was the Goner Priest drunk? The Argon wasn’t difficult to recognise he was the only Grim Reaper with a protruding beard bursting out around his skull facemask like a misplaced mane. That made Anna genuinely laugh - she was sure he had done his best but that bush had nowhere to go but out - it helped lift her flagging spirits a little.
“Anna I’ve been trying to catch up with you all night. Guess I’m not as fast on my feet as I use to be,” said Aelo laughing loudly.
“You look like you have been enjoying yourself,” said Anna.
“Do I?” The Priest asked as if surprised.
“I wouldn’t have thought this was your scene,” shouted Anna above the din.
“Normally it wouldn’t be,” confessed the Goner Priest, “I, I don’t even know why I am here, dressed like this,” he said laughing again, “I suppose I thought it might help me to understand, but I only feel more confused not enlightened.”
“I know it is shameless,” agreed Anna, “I don’t have any excuses. How much fuel did it take to get you here Aelo?”
“Not that much,” sighed the Priest, “I very rarely drink. I just…visiting Rud, I don’t know, it’s difficult always being a rock - in control.”
“Never was a truer word spoken friend,” once again agreed Anna.
“Did I see Elaen helping to secure the entrance?” asked Aelo.
“Possibly,” replied Anna, “she has been helping my Chief of Security Ravn out with a few things!”
“So Elaen has been with you the whole time,” said the Goner.
“What do you mean?” Anna questioned.
“Well you see Rud was asking after Elaen. I think the condemned would like to see her before events made it impossible. I guess it is already almost too late. The Commander wouldn’t tell me where she was. Now I doubt security would be willing to permit so late a visit even if Elaen could be persuaded.”
“It’s complicated Aelo,” said Anna, “but the Lt. Constable has been busy, you must appreciate visiting Rud mightn’t be the smartest thing for her to do anyway.”
“I understand, but I felt obligated to try,” explained the Priest, “Rud isn’t a bad Argon you know - just a foolish one - who failed to resist temptation.”
“Well,” said Anna with a smile, “we are all guilty of something. Rud was unlucky to be in the wrong place at the right time.”
“I was surprise to hear you had left ArgonForge Anna,” stated Aelo.
“I was kind of surprised myself Garrin made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” said Anna.
“I heard Gregor was being somewhat difficult,” said the Priest diplomatically whilst struggling not to stand on the white swathed Argons more agile feet.
“Gregor was, but that is old cycle news. Sometimes it takes a little push to get the ball rolling,” said Anna, “I don’t have any grudges or regrets,” she lied.
“So are you enjoying being your own boss?” asked Aelo.
“It has compensations, but events have been a little too frantic for enjoyment, hopefully things will be better in the future’, noted the RJL Administrator wistfully.
“Yes the future is always a brighter time,” cut in the Admiral snatching Anna away from the startled Priest who found to his surprise that he was dancing with a blue-faced female zombie.
“You look tired Anna. I’m not surprised is there anyone here you haven’t danced with?” asked Sven, “Apart from myself?”
“I don’t know. I have tried to do my best as a hostess, but it is rather confusing with all these identical masks. Well it seemed like a good idea at the time,” said Anna.
“It always does,” replied Sven, “it is funny but dancing here with you I feel like the whole rooms eyes are upon me,” he laughed, “certainly the Commander Carls anyway! I’m sure he is lurking around protectively somewhere.”
“Well he might be just another Reaper by now he did threaten to dress up later,” warned Anna.
“Yes it is quite clever really,” noted the Admiral.
“What is?” asked Anna.
“This concept of hidden in plain sight,” said Sven.
“The anonymity you mean - well some people like to disappear - to play other roles entirely,” said the RJL Administrator Anna.
“Like yourself Anna you are also an Argon of many roles - I must say I am impressed with your diversity - PA, Station Runner, Administrator, Xeno Archaeologist, Research, and Development Scientist. I look forward to the next time we meet,” finished Sven before loosing his hold on the female Argon turning sharply and striding away with a flutter of skulls.
The Admiral it couldn’t be, could it? Thought Anna watching him heading for the entrance.
A familiar Reaper rushed over, it would be difficult for anyone who knew him to mistake that easy movement, “What did the fekker say?” asked Ravn.
“Not a lot,” replied Anna still collecting her thoughts.
“That’s odd,” said Ravn eyeing Anna warily, “considering it was under a Portable Corporate Block!”
The Admiral activated a Corporate Block? Was that it then all the precautions everything for ‘I look forward to the next time we meet’? Certainly something about the way the Admiral had said that - gave her the creeps - it had sounded like a dark promise, a fell surety! Yet if that was all that was going to happen this night Anna felt more than mildly disappointed. Oddly she would have been happier had Pirates burst into the Ball, or agents shimmied down from the ceiling, or rogue Marines arrived by Goner Transport Device.
“What did the Oracle want?” asked her Commander Carl joining Ravn.
“I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling I’m not going to find out until later,” replied Anna feeling like weeping.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 65 – The Revenant of Eighteen Billion
The Admiral Sven Hale felt good - this was a role he looked forward to playing - in fact he felt filled to almost bursting with a thrill of excitement at the prospect. Not only was it entirely appropriate that he herald in the Trial in this manner - the dream seemed closer than ever - it wouldn’t be long now. Soon the house of cards would begin to topple. Tonight promised to be fun. It wasn’t very often that he got to mix socially with the principle targets in his schemes (at least not outside sterile, and dry Argon Prime political gatherings). AP social events were by and large nothing like this so-called launch party promised to be - this one would be something else!
Sven wondered what his opponents believed would happen next, no doubt they imagined Sven or one of his agents would attempt to co-opting Anna in some manner. The Admiral grinned it wouldn’t do to disappoint expectations too much. Sven also questioned whether Fay would be in attendance he hoped so. It would be rather amusing to get the old witch up for a dance - would she be able to keep up with him - it was a pity they were moving in time to different tunes. The Admiral Sven Hale found he was smiling to himself - it was kind of the Reaper Jump Liner outfit to provide a distraction from the increasingly tense business of counting down the moments to the revelation. How bittersweet was expectation, mused the Argon also known as the Oracle.
Sven was also glad this was not another of Gregor’s rather dull AF affairs. ArgonForge was a dependable outfit at what it did, but it lacked the dynamism, and risk taking drive of some of the newer corporations. In truth AF was little more than a puppet of the old guard - it followed the vector traced out before it - it didn’t scout out new territory as much as it liked to pretend it did. AF might have a reasonably if erratically successful R&D department, but beyond that... Worse yet ArgonForge had joined forces with many other deluded bodies in falling for the glamour of the filthy Goner, and Terran Technologists. Any Goner or Terran alliance filled Sven with a righteous, and glorious anger. The Eighteen Billion screamed in his ears for justice for this unholy betrayal, and the Admiral planned to ensure every member of that impossible number received their due payment in full. ArgonForge’s premature alignment would be this corporations undoing - even if the final fate of the weapon manufacturer was a small matter, and of little concern to the Admirals overall scheme.
A slightly rattled Sven finally entered the Ball minus his stripped off metallic claws - they were deemed a health, and safety risk by the RJL guards. No surprise there but still annoying. Well at least this action might help to convince the local fools that they had given him a thorough, and comprehensive search. If this was the case then perhaps that action was - even a bonus of sorts - nonetheless it still rankled to have part of his costume confiscated by these rank amateurs, he thought a little huffily.
Upon seeing the Grim Reaper puppet behind Garrin Sven felt even more annoyed. The toy had what looked like a real - very sharp - scythe in its no doubt pneumatic clutches, and that had been passed as acceptable? The device made Sven wish he had taken more of an interest in such details. The animated construct could have had - interesting possibilities - for a control hack.
Forcing a smile he relaxed the Admiral told himself that it was - after all - Garrin, and Anna’s party, if these two didn’t have some right to bend the rules among the assembly nobody did? What wasn’t that slut nearly wearing though - really he had thought better of the former PA’s taste from previous encounters. Then the significance struck him: being well versed in mythology and legend, of course the Lady in White… very clever!
“A remarkable, and rather off putting costume,” said Gregor rushing over to deliver a more or less pre arranged script, “tell me Admiral what is it you are representing exactly?”
“Gregor I’m surprise you didn’t get the reference, I am the Revenant of the Eighteen Billion souls slain by the Xenon,” returned the Admiral flourishing his cloak of screaming skulls while his mechanistic breast plate blinked with twinkling lights and its surface worked through a series of constant movements. Some parts rotating others were sliding back and forth with mysterious effort.
“Fascinating,” said the AFC 4 Administrator, “who do you believe is the greatest threat to the Argon Federation then the Xenon or the Khaak?”
“Neither,” replied Admiral Hale, “It is my belief that we ourselves are our own worst enemy. When the Argon have conquered our own divisive inclinations, and commenced to truly cooperate - then and only then - will all our external enemies be crushed? We are a truly dynamic species Gregor, but still a little too obsessed with private selfish interests rather than service. When we mature a great future lies ahead of us!”
“Spoken like a true Patriot,” replied Gregor, “it is good to see somebody in the military has some future vision beyond the realm of mere strategic withdrawal’s, holding actions, and forced bloody tactical necessities - described as heroic victories.”
“The Xenon - most able servants,” said GR as Garrin, and his hovering friend joined the clot of figures congealing around the new guest like blood around an open wound.
“I’m sure you see the Xenon that way,” replied Garrin playing along with the puppet, “personally I could do without those Metal Heads chasing me all over the Universe.”
“That is a nice dream,” said an unspecified male Argon hovering nearby in a Reaper outfit, “to be without the Xenon - is that ever likely in your estimation Admiral?”
“Anything is possible with the right will,” replied Sven.
Privately the so-called Oracle believed it was most unlikely - at least via head on confrontation. The Xenon went deep into true Outer Space - far deeper than the Argon ever ventured outside the Grids or would be comfortable venturing, and the machines could replicate themselves far faster than even the most prolific race could breed. Besides they must be far more efficient in their ability to harvest raw materials having little need to fear pollution, plus they had no aesthetic, political or biological restraints.
Sven Hale considered the Khaak a minor menace in comparison to the Xenon. In time the Khaak as unreasonable as they currently appeared might yet be brought into the fold - never the Xenon - the machines were just gears in a universe wide engine of conversion, you can’t reason with gears, you could talk as much as you liked they would just keep on chewing!
“Well I don’t much care for that sentiment,” replied the unknown Reaper rather rudely, “slim possibilities based on ethereal emotional boosts to a supposed lack of determination - I never noticed - among my own people, that my friend is a poor margin on which to make any sort of solid estimation of future policy. Really as an - Oracle - you surprise me. Either the Xenon can be eradicated in your estimation or they can’t - which is it?”
“As things stand I would say they would provide some unique difficulties - for a start it would be foolish to open up another serious front at this time! In a way this is exactly the point I was making our efforts, and resources are too divided already, too uncoordinated,” said the Admiral smoothly.
“So what would it take to bring about this miraculous increase in our forces abilities,” said the Reaper pushing, “more than a mere rhetoric of unity - I suspect?”
“Defining our weaknesses, and seeking to eradicate them is hardly rhetoric,” interjected Gregor, “a real visionary policy is what this current Senate seems to lack, all I see is second hand reaction to external initiatives!”
“More cheap sentiment without substance - what is the alternative policy you are espousing - where is this fractured effort in the current system? How would we unite from it? I for one care little for dictatorships, and or military juntas if that is the target of your suggestion,” said the Reaper.
“Don’t dare put those words into my mouth sir, especially whilst you hide behind a mask in this debate,” said Hale fuming.
Sven wondered who was this upstart? Given the etiquette of the Ball he couldn’t ask. Whoever the stranger was though, he had better hope I never find out, thought Hale. Was it a player, a loud mouth, or an agent provocateur?
“Fight, fight, fight…” chorused GR waving its scythe about in the air.
“Ah, truly I apologise, obviously I mistook the meaning of your words. I am glad to see the idea offends you Admiral Hale as much as it offends myself. I am heartened to hear you firmly support our - democratic - Senate!” said the unknown Argon.
“Accepted! My support for democracy is unstinting, thus I suspect I owe you a debt of gratitude - I certainly wouldn’t want to be misrepresented - luckily the issue is now fully clarified,” said Sven Hale.
“Hardly,” returned the argumentative Argon, “you still haven’t stated the true nature of your obviously worthy proposal.”
“Well it was a general comment really,” confessed the Admiral, “Truly it would be remiss of me to pontificate too deeply on such matters. The informality of this occasion perhaps over loosened my reserve. I must thank you again for reminding me - inadvertently - of the difficulty of misinterpretation: how the wrong association so easily accrues when an actively serving military Argon is drawn to comment on matters of civilian policy.”
“Well that is interesting in itself Admiral the fact that you deem our lack of martial success to be a civil - rather than a military deficiency!” said the unknown Argon swiftly.
“I didn’t say that either!” noted Hale very coldly.
“I love a good argument,” said GR with an evil grin looking back and forth at the two principle protagonists.
“Maybe this mask is confusing my hearing,” said the unnamed Argon, “but we were discussing the Xenon problem, and you said you didn’t want to comment on civilian matters. That suggests to me you believe our failures are down to what - a lack of civilian or governmental support - or is it the Corporations that you are hunting with your ire Admiral?”
“I’m not hunting anyone nor flinging accusations. However, as you insist on forcing me to correct you on this matter,” said Sven, “What I was eluding to was the fact that all military ventures obviously require a degree of civil support. I do not doubt that the people, and government, and yes the corporations are firmly behind our efforts, but logistical systems can always be improved or better integrated. Running the War effort as we do on the vagaries of commercial enterprises is not without its hazards.”
“Take the very Trial here,” continued the Admiral, “as a prime example: If this complex had been under direct military protection I doubt it would have been so readily compromised. Nor am I berating ArgonForge for any lack of diligence - it is a simple question of divergent priorities. A Corporation fights its own battles those of profit and loss - the military measures its success via differing criteria. I like to imagine the Navy for example measures its effectiveness in its ability to secure a future for the Argon species as a whole! What do we care about the financial cost, such a benison is beyond value a question of honour, and duty not credits!”
“Yet even the Navy must operate in the real universe, and under real economics Admiral. You cannot be suggesting that by militarising production items would be cheaper than those manufactured under the competition of a free market economy?” questioned the masked Argon.
“Perhaps not cheaper,” said the Admiral, “nor perhaps even desirable - as a sweeping policy - but certain key complexes should perhaps be protected, and the goods they produce controlled directly by the military for the sake of good security alone! As to economics as matters stand we sometimes find ourselves forced to buy weapons produced in our own Argon Forges back from Teladi or other traders. Frankly paying a mark up to supply our own forces with weapons manufactured in our own space offends me - it is a ludicrous waste of effort and credits!”
“Trust me,” continued Sven, “I could spend all evening listing other systematic failings, and minor improvements, but I have no desire to bore this company further or to talk too readily outside my prime remit. Nonetheless, off the top of my head, secure weapons transport by military ships or convoy to prevent the current gross loss of material to piracy would be another logical step forward. Freelance pilots ferrying sensitive goods may generate extra income for traders, but at what real cost to our universes stability. Insurance won‘t cover the future lives lost when these dangerous commodities are turned upon our own!”
“Interesting,” replied the masked Reaper, “what worries me is the fact that small but varied changes of this nature tend to cascade into larger shall we say movements, and spheres of influence - sometimes the cure is more dangerous than the disease! Civilian freedom is a very fragile commodity - Admiral - it cannot be bought or maintained at the point of a gun. Fleets, and weapons as tools are naturally enforcements (restraining). True freedom is about letting go - not fencing off - limiting or controlling! It is the Senates stern duty to ensure that such worthy guardians as yourself don’t - unwittingly - become oppressors rather than protectors: be it by accident or the product of a benevolent but misguided design to save us from ourselves.”
“Indeed, which is why I simply follow the orders I am given,” replied Admiral Hale once again amicable, “really it is such citizens as Gregor here, or Garrin with his bright new business venture that should be pointing out the way ahead.”
“Please anything but that…way ahead - dead ahead,” rudely interrupted GR with a mocking titter and scythe flourish.
“Behave,” returned G.
To Garrin’s mild embarrassment he belatedly understood that he might have made a mistake. The RJL Partner didn’t want to be held responsible for the words and actions of a creature over which - due to the set up - he had little direct control. G wondered which of the security guards was currently running his puppet. Garrin imagined the operators would all eschew individual responsibility - if he challenged them later - over aggravating the important guest.
“Hmmm,” continued Hale, “As I was saying,” he found himself giving the animated puppet a hard look to his own growing chagrin. It was easy to forget the thing wasn‘t real in this setting, “it is rather…” damn for a moment he floundered having lost his train of thought, “It is merely a Commanders duty,” he continued, “to see how best to obtain a very set, and limited range of objectives - within the remit of a narrowly fixed jurisdiction. You asked a hypothetical question, and I gave in my opinion - a hypothetical answer - from my perspective,” continued Sven determined to regain his momentum but sure it was lost, “I must say - visiting such intangibles as you have delineated - I am glad I am no politician!”
“I’m sure you are,” replied the unknown masked Argon with a dark chuckle.
After all politicians might be held accountable to the electorate for their actions, thought Jollo Gardna. He suspected Sven would rather keep it the other way around. The military Argon was clearly no democrat for all his affirmations to the contrary.
Well the Admiral had certainly made an unexpected effort with his attire, thought Anna. It was impressive, the former PA also wondered who the masked Reaper was that had challenged Hales sermon. Once inside identity cards were hidden away and when figures had been mingling it was hard to tell some Reapers apart. Eighteen Billion the Admiral was right to remind people of that horrendous figure. The Xenon had always filled Anna with a degree of fascination but also a cold dread. They were the very stuff of nightmares relentless, unfeeling, uncompromising, and it often seemed unstoppable!
“I commend you on your costume Admiral,” said Anna playing the friendly hostess.
“Thank you Lady,” said the Admiral bowing, “I find your own choice interesting. While the puppet is quite a remarkable feat - how long did it take to construct?”
“I don’t know old bony here is a modified unit - belonging to a children’s entertainer of my acquaintance. It is amazing some of the people you meet doing courier runs. It was more a question of last moment modifications than construction,” noted Garrin.
“I’ve always been here,” replied GR menacingly, “I don’t know what the fool is talking about! Do you think the poor mortal has finally lost his mind?”
“Without doubt,” said Anna with a smirk, “why do you haunt him so?”
“I wish I knew…I suppose it is something of a fixation,” said GR laughing.
“You’re all mad,” said Carl with a grin.
Anna was weary she was tired from desperately, ruthlessly circulating in the hope of making herself approachable to a contact. The RJL Administrator asked herself how many times had she danced with death, and how many different deaths had she danced with? Although the former PA had been avoiding alcohol she was beginning to feel decidedly hung over as she passed among the sea of twisted ghoulish faces and skull masks. Hope was fast giving way to the heavy burden of despair as the cycle lengthened. Had it all been for nothing? Garrin, and her had made their little speeches, and without doubt the whole thing had generated a huge amount of publicity, but at the moment Anna could hardly care less about that!
In the ebb and flow she found herself being partnered by a two left footed, and slightly wobbly Aelo. Was the Goner Priest drunk? The Argon wasn’t difficult to recognise he was the only Grim Reaper with a protruding beard bursting out around his skull facemask like a misplaced mane. That made Anna genuinely laugh - she was sure he had done his best but that bush had nowhere to go but out - it helped lift her flagging spirits a little.
“Anna I’ve been trying to catch up with you all night. Guess I’m not as fast on my feet as I use to be,” said Aelo laughing loudly.
“You look like you have been enjoying yourself,” said Anna.
“Do I?” The Priest asked as if surprised.
“I wouldn’t have thought this was your scene,” shouted Anna above the din.
“Normally it wouldn’t be,” confessed the Goner Priest, “I, I don’t even know why I am here, dressed like this,” he said laughing again, “I suppose I thought it might help me to understand, but I only feel more confused not enlightened.”
“I know it is shameless,” agreed Anna, “I don’t have any excuses. How much fuel did it take to get you here Aelo?”
“Not that much,” sighed the Priest, “I very rarely drink. I just…visiting Rud, I don’t know, it’s difficult always being a rock - in control.”
“Never was a truer word spoken friend,” once again agreed Anna.
“Did I see Elaen helping to secure the entrance?” asked Aelo.
“Possibly,” replied Anna, “she has been helping my Chief of Security Ravn out with a few things!”
“So Elaen has been with you the whole time,” said the Goner.
“What do you mean?” Anna questioned.
“Well you see Rud was asking after Elaen. I think the condemned would like to see her before events made it impossible. I guess it is already almost too late. The Commander wouldn’t tell me where she was. Now I doubt security would be willing to permit so late a visit even if Elaen could be persuaded.”
“It’s complicated Aelo,” said Anna, “but the Lt. Constable has been busy, you must appreciate visiting Rud mightn’t be the smartest thing for her to do anyway.”
“I understand, but I felt obligated to try,” explained the Priest, “Rud isn’t a bad Argon you know - just a foolish one - who failed to resist temptation.”
“Well,” said Anna with a smile, “we are all guilty of something. Rud was unlucky to be in the wrong place at the right time.”
“I was surprise to hear you had left ArgonForge Anna,” stated Aelo.
“I was kind of surprised myself Garrin made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” said Anna.
“I heard Gregor was being somewhat difficult,” said the Priest diplomatically whilst struggling not to stand on the white swathed Argons more agile feet.
“Gregor was, but that is old cycle news. Sometimes it takes a little push to get the ball rolling,” said Anna, “I don’t have any grudges or regrets,” she lied.
“So are you enjoying being your own boss?” asked Aelo.
“It has compensations, but events have been a little too frantic for enjoyment, hopefully things will be better in the future’, noted the RJL Administrator wistfully.
“Yes the future is always a brighter time,” cut in the Admiral snatching Anna away from the startled Priest who found to his surprise that he was dancing with a blue-faced female zombie.
“You look tired Anna. I’m not surprised is there anyone here you haven’t danced with?” asked Sven, “Apart from myself?”
“I don’t know. I have tried to do my best as a hostess, but it is rather confusing with all these identical masks. Well it seemed like a good idea at the time,” said Anna.
“It always does,” replied Sven, “it is funny but dancing here with you I feel like the whole rooms eyes are upon me,” he laughed, “certainly the Commander Carls anyway! I’m sure he is lurking around protectively somewhere.”
“Well he might be just another Reaper by now he did threaten to dress up later,” warned Anna.
“Yes it is quite clever really,” noted the Admiral.
“What is?” asked Anna.
“This concept of hidden in plain sight,” said Sven.
“The anonymity you mean - well some people like to disappear - to play other roles entirely,” said the RJL Administrator Anna.
“Like yourself Anna you are also an Argon of many roles - I must say I am impressed with your diversity - PA, Station Runner, Administrator, Xeno Archaeologist, Research, and Development Scientist. I look forward to the next time we meet,” finished Sven before loosing his hold on the female Argon turning sharply and striding away with a flutter of skulls.
The Admiral it couldn’t be, could it? Thought Anna watching him heading for the entrance.
A familiar Reaper rushed over, it would be difficult for anyone who knew him to mistake that easy movement, “What did the fekker say?” asked Ravn.
“Not a lot,” replied Anna still collecting her thoughts.
“That’s odd,” said Ravn eyeing Anna warily, “considering it was under a Portable Corporate Block!”
The Admiral activated a Corporate Block? Was that it then all the precautions everything for ‘I look forward to the next time we meet’? Certainly something about the way the Admiral had said that - gave her the creeps - it had sounded like a dark promise, a fell surety! Yet if that was all that was going to happen this night Anna felt more than mildly disappointed. Oddly she would have been happier had Pirates burst into the Ball, or agents shimmied down from the ceiling, or rogue Marines arrived by Goner Transport Device.
“What did the Oracle want?” asked her Commander Carl joining Ravn.
“I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling I’m not going to find out until later,” replied Anna feeling like weeping.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Thu, 1. May 08, 13:25, edited 2 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 66 – Grossly Upstaging the Trial
Rav was glad this event was almost over. It had been a long outrageous night especially crazy after the press and cameras were removed in the dark of the morning! Now the Station morning proper beckoned from among the wreckage of the late debauch! Everybody who mattered on the RJL team were - by necessity - at this point running on stimulants. Rav was very tired ‘The Grim Reaper and his Victims Masked Ball’ had been pretty stressful - a security nightmare. Even with the best scanning equipment Rav had known it was still possible to conceal some hidden weapons. Due to many quandaries Ravn had been working like a machine - constantly linked up to the various (on board forces) teams seeking to cover every conceivable security gap.
Among Rav’s greatest fears had been the possibility of an all out assault. Garrin’s well planned arrival by GTD (Goner Transport Device) to the Hall of Stars only helped emphasise: that there was always way’s in - other than via the obvious front door! Recently to Ravn’s alarm Corporate Blocks had been blossoming around the station like rain shields in an AP thunder storm. As well as legitimate business it was anybodies guess what else was planned or done in the protected zones of off camera darkness. The Commander was especially distraught to have so many legitimate holes in his normally very wide AFC 4 security booths surveillance.
Ravn’s had been especially fearful that if a well armed team did penetrate the Hall of Stars all hell would inevitably break loose. With the function space filled with VIP’s you would have confusion, panic and an automatic hostage crisis! Anna and Garrin had both been given tiny traces just in case - with Slab being linked into a GTD running a routine to transport the RJL heads out at the first sign of trouble. Unfortunately Anna had forced herself into the emergency transport command structure - refusing to be pulled out without her own express permission! The RJL Administrator preferring to risk her own safety rather than jeopardise any opportunity to contact the kidnappers. Luckily from a protection point of view these extreme measures had not been tested, still the job wasn’t quite over yet while Anna’s desire for contact had proved unsatisfying.
Earlier when everything was in full swing Ravn had changed into his costume leaving Elaen in charge of door security. As just one more anonymous Reaper Rav had hovered - even danced - among the crowd to keep a close eye on unfolding events. Thus this morning the Chief of RJL Security was still in his Reaper suit and rather exhausted, and the party was rolling towards its final phases including the early (pre-breakfast) launch of the first Reaper Jump Liner - Reaper Alpha or ‘Ra’ as it was coming to be known. Having the Launch after the party had seemed like a back to front way of doing things, but was in actuality a deliberate ploy by Anna. The RJL Administrator planned to create a final publicity stunt using the VIP’s (at their most ragged) as bait for the cameras.
Rav found himself considering the secret diabolical scheme that Anna had cooked up. An anarchic operation he would soon - to his own disbelief - be helping to coordinate. This was the oddest assignment he had ever undertaken it both concerned and darkly amused him. As Anna had explained she knew some of the late arriving media boys wouldn’t be able to resist the chance of catching the notables and celebrities on the downside. Some Media Jocks loved to peddle ship wrecked images of VIP’s not looking at their best, or better still drunk and disorderly (antics involving the wealthy and alcohol were always welcome on lens since it was still prohibited by Federal Argon Law). Without doubt the serious business types and -A- list guests wouldn’t be caught so readily on the hop (knowing how to disguise their vices) but some of the famous for being famous crowd were prone to hysterical gaffs like fish were prone to swimming in water.
Nonetheless, Anna was taking no chances. A staged scene had been pre arranged. A number of publicity seeking parties where bribed with both the idea of being placed at the centre of extra coverage, not to mention with some tidy credit bonuses plus a few other hinted at non deductible incentives. If everything went to plan - the Launch Event would go horribly wrong from the onset - with chaos following hot upon the guests as they started to filter in to the temporarily decorated Docking Bay space with its cordoned off viewing areas and black ribbon draped Personnel Transport. The trouble was due to commence via a simple accident upon the red carpet - a guest being shoved out of the way by a too eager Anchor Argon. The resulting cat fight was to be a no holes barred affair which thanks to a few planted Reapers and guards would escalate into a widespread brawl.
The initial hostilities being between a well known but down on her luck Media Face called Bethany Yamaha and the slightly aging but still impressive female guest Alanis Sha a rather dodgy PVR actress renowned for her obscene assets, high temper and ah general… flexibility before the lens! Anna had even arranged for both the media jock and Alanis to eventually be - rather brutally - arrested with the aid of some members of the Legion in full Marine armour. It was hoped both females would become instant martyrs to their respective factions causes! If the Anchor Argons - rough arrest and unspecified duration of detainment - in particular failed to generate a stink among Beth’s media peers, and a lasting final flourish of publicity for RJL the Administrator didn’t know what would!
Anna had decided to go all out for notorious - she wanted the Ball to become a scandalous event of infamy. To assist the twisted little scheme various gems from the Ball itself caught on camera (captured during times and places when no lenses were supposed to be present) would also get leaked once the story of the fracas was loose. Not a few of these also included the brash star Alanis and her ilk in compromising positions with some important but foolish guests. Anna had also hired a secret team of PR gurus whose only mission was to spread rumours and gossip about the entire disgraceful function.
A second team this time lawyers would be very openly employed by RJL to hush the whole thing up on behalf of the esteemed guests - thus adding to the stories momentum. After all if you really wanted to publicise something - just try to ban it! The Grim Reaper and his Victims Ball was to be coloured as a flagship pinnacle in Corporate low taste vulgarity: an utterly degenerate and profligate affair - something that people could freely snigger over in the cycles ahead! Well evil smells - always travelled further - and caught the attention of more noses. Images of Reaper masked and cloaked guests and security guards and marines scuffling alone would make a fine pictures for inter-link news items and help promote the Reaper Jump Liner name.
The difficulty for Rav would be allowing the incident to get seemingly out of control whilst appearing to be trying to do the opposite. At the same time also monitoring the chaos in case somebody else tried to take advantage of the disorder. Anna’s bodyguard was also apprehensive that the fight might get genuinely out of hand. Ravn’s concern being that some innocent Argon might actually get really hurt, but he mused - few of the Argons involved could be deemed innocent - besides Rav knew he should have more than enough overt, and covert bodies on the scene to contain the action to just bruises and battered egos. Just in case quick access to medics had also been arranged.
Raven’s final worry however was something a little different. The idea that Anna was playing him. That she planned to use the staged event as a distraction to remove her trace and herself. Rav was scared that some deal had been made between Anna and Sven under that Portable Corporate Block. Anna was all wide eyed innocence but Rav now knew just how devious, and what a skilled dissembler his employer was - for this reason he had vowed to stick to the female like glue. Unfortunately if Anna fled Rav was far from sure he would be able to keep up after all the woman was a Station Runner skilled at negotiating crowded areas at great speed, chances were she would leave Rav far behind.
After the Lone Wolf Ishchi woke up from a solid nights sleep he triple checked all the systems including his customised navigation software in the taped down computer pad. Ishchi was running on AFC 4 station time now synchronised via another dropped satellite and the live news feed. The Insane Argon was drifting…waiting. When the time came the Modified Small Transport Relativistic Missile wouldn’t take too long to reach its intended target due to its almost constant acceleration.
Earlier the Freedom fighter had the ships computer do the math it wasn’t likely to be spot on, as he had made a few guesses on the input figures but it was he imagined a fair estimate. If all went well the target would be struck station time around about midday. Well the ETA was accurate enough for him, exactly when didn’t matter, Ishchi was more concerned with the validity of his aim. Luckily the vector would be adjusted as required by the ships still functional strafe drive.
Rud wasn’t too happy to be awake. The prisoner didn’t want to face another stupid Tribunal farce. The ex clerk just wanted to drift off in his mind to some other reality perhaps one under blue skies with dirt beneath his feet instead of cold steel. Rud wondered had he dreamed last night? If the condemned Argon had escaped to some inner place in his sleep he didn’t remember it - thinking about this felt especially cruel - it was as if even his subconscious had been locked up.
Rud was tired of all the stupid formalities. It was funny to think that this was - his Trial - it certainly didn’t feel like it belonged to him. Even Aelo seemed to have something to gain from the event. The Priest wanted the condemned to make a positive speech - would that absolve the Goner from any guilt he might feel for the legalised murder! Rud was convinced the Treason Trial belonged to just about everyone else except himself, he was just a fixture of a setting designed to promote others dreams and ambitions. Maybe that was why he couldn’t remember his own fantasy’s - they had all been stolen by the living - Rud knew he was nothing but a walking corpse.
Jollo felt shattered but had decided to see the event through to its close. Some foolish little competitive part of him refused to give in to weakness in front of these… youngsters! That had been one crazy party especially in the early hours of the morning after the press had been removed. When the alcohol had come out in earnest rather than being taken discreetly - such as a mere hint within that largely fruit juice punch. The Admiral had left before things started getting too wild, Jollo wondered had the Oracle foreseen the trend? Was the timing of Sven’s withdrawal intentional or accidental? Was the event now safer or more at risk with Sven departed back to his current on station lair? The Admiral had certainly proved the sensible one - avoiding any overt action - and he would be fresher than most come the Trial.
As difficult as Hale was and as much as he disliked the Argon - Jollo still felt sorry for him. Sven was all twisted up inside - the Revenant of Eighteen Billion said it all! The AF VP believed Sven might have some justification, but that Argon was still losing the plot. It was a shame as the Oracle was usually an effective anthropologist, but in this instance he was a poor one - lacking the necessary detachment - Hale had no grasp of his own factions truer nature. The Admiral was too optimistic and too pessimistic. The VP had been thinking it all over since their little debate. In Jollo’s estimation: Danna believed it was better for the agencies to bend or even break the law - as need required - than for those laws to suffer amendment! It was a question of sensitive balance which in the end described why Ban was happy to tolerate rogues (even among his lieutenants) yet also occasionally was forced to slap them down exceptionally hard. The way Jolo perceived it Ban understood how to use the Darkness against itself - without becoming the very thing he most hated - unfortunately others among his crew occasionally did not!
Sven’s likely grand design wouldn’t be a vector to the future it was a navigation point to hell. Rigid state control especially military regimes invariably failed because they were ultra conservative, stifled innovation and oppressed every rogue element not just the potential rebels, the anarchic pirates, but also every blessed free thinker! Dealing with Sven had finally enlightened Jollo to what Danna really did. It was the opposite of Sven: the head of Argon Intelligence set his operatives loose. It made life complicated birthing fluid rather than static policies, and fostered a degree of sibling rivalry / division that occasionally seemed unhealthy even counter productive. Nonetheless Danna’s unique solution kept the foul necessities hidden and the wider Argon race civil. It also kept the military and the agencies competitive - mostly policing each other - and thus moderating potential over enthusiasms.
Elaen was still getting over her blushes from earlier. Some of that stuff had been an education and made her feel like a prude. The Copper was glad that was over who would have believed the prim and proper Anna could have organised such a shocking development. Even Rav had seemed a little put out and red faced before the scene was over, maybe because Elaen was here too - after all Rav was a Grunt - and must have seen worse!
Still Elaen was glad to forget about that fiasco and look forward - to the bash - and her small part in the staged mock fight. El was to brawl with one of the Reapers. The Lt. Constable had taken a bit of convincing by Ravn to get involved in Anna’s dodgy scam. Once Elaen had been corrupted to the cause, however, the idea started to seem like a lot of fun - something everyone had been missing lately, well everyone except the less restrained guests last night!
Just thinking about the upcoming scam gave El butterfly’s in her stomach but it was an oddly pleasant feeling like the over excitement she remembered as a child before Present Giving! Rav had also taken El aside and asked her to keep an extra eye on Anna - just in case! This was Ravn explained why he was really glad Elaen was involved in the undertaking. Elaen for her own part had never had much opportunity to do any serious undercover work - which was what this at least felt like - so she planned to make the most of it.
Carl was back in Dress Uniform his more than lightly embarrassing stint as a Reaper over. The Commander was still feeling shocked at the degree to which the Ball had degenerated. Even though Anna had informed him - very last minute - of the fuller nature of her plan for the Ball nonetheless seeing some of the more exhibitionist individuals total lack of discretion had come as bit of a disappointment. Carl wasn’t sure what was worse: that these normally stolid and civilised Argons had so quickly stooped to such depths, that Anna had anticipated and facilitated the fact and knew they would, that Anna had proved a lot more devious and deviant than he had imagined, or that the worldly Commander had proved so outrageously naïve.
The Commander believed Anna and Garrin had gone way too far in his estimation, he planned to have serious words with both of them later. Nonetheless, when Anna had led him off by the hand - to a truly private spot - the Commander had still to his shame (given the others activities already in full swing in many cases right out in the open) followed. The Commander felt like a total hypocrite (after all what was the difference behind or in front of a screen it was all the same thing, but somehow it was different). Had times moved on so much while he stayed still, or had all these worthy individuals somehow had their drinks spiked? Or were wealthy Argons just this degenerate by nature, just how much trouble was, wondered the Commander, he in?
Anna was feeling very guilty but only on behalf of a few individuals. Carl of course didn’t yet know about the other stunt - still to be perpetrated at the Docking Bay! After seeing Carls reaction to the deliberate late morning debasement of the Ball, Anna had decided to keep him close by (where she could stay his hand if needed) but firmly in the dark. The Commander was to remain ignorant at least until it was too late for any noble intervention! Carl just never ceased to surprise and delight her. How had the Commander got to where we was today and still remained so well… innocent. All Anna could think was that people like Gregor must have been keeping their security officer’s blinkers very firmly on. Did Carl really believe Corporate Blockers were just used for signing contracts and discussing business deals.
Anna had always hated and despised the seedier side of business but she had been involved in organising lots of late night /early morning entertainment in her time - even if she had never physically taken part! In truth she couldn’t have pulled this scam off if many of the bodies here - didn’t wrongly trust her as a facilitator - from previous association notably via Gregor’s occasional extra special parties! What the fools including Gregor were forgetting was the fact that she no longer worked for AF. In a way Anna Dei had to admit it was a degree of revenge the Corporations like AF were still largely a male preserve at the highest levels with just a few exceptions. Leaving the R&D end (where things were more equal) to enter her role as PA Anna had been appalled at the way she was frequently talked down too, insulted, or treated like pass remarkable eye candy! In fact at one point or another by almost every male AF associated VIP in the Hall of Stars. Usually Anna didn’t mix business with pleasure, but when she had dreamed up this idea the Station Runner had decided to make one - for all time - glorious exception!
Sven was lying once more relaxing - luxuriating - in his bubbling tub. So this was it at last, now it was just a question of a little restraint. It wouldn’t do for the Admiral to be seen to have anticipated the news feed or his own agents reports from the field. No he would have to wait for the right moment before sending in his Marines to make the arrest. Once he had Anna in his custody he would have Danna’s manhood in a vice. The Oracle had not yet decided if he would let Danna quietly resign or force the whole affair out into a broad wide open enquiry. Without doubt an enquiry had its appeal and uses but it might give the Senate too much ammunition against his ANI rather than just Ban in particular. Still, thought Sven, it might be best to just play it tactically one move at a time according to how the pieces fell upon the board.
Fay still didn’t know what to make of Anna, but was having her heavily watched during this madness. The Portable Corporate Block had left her feeling very, very uneasy! Anna was a conundrum Fay just couldn’t read the female Professor. The Legions Commander in Chief felt like she was on a hair trigger. Running on stimulants Fay had worried her way through the night listening in on the secure com channels - waiting tensely! At the same time Fay had scouts scouring around the station looking for anything odd inside or outside. Yes even Marines sweeping the stations skin in vacuum suits The Lost for Words had been brought in so close to the station that from certain angles at a distance it looked like a newly added part of the silver structure. A bulky angry looking protrusion at odd with the stations other limbs which had a certain strangely ergonomic sleekness. The colossus carrier was armed and ready its pilots on high alert its squadrons of fighter craft - not counting those already out on patrol combat ready, its turrets constantly cycling for a target.
It was frustrating Fay hated playing a reactive game. If only Febr was conscious she missed her old goats conversation! So far there had been no change - her geniuses brain - still seemed to be in a scramble, full of odd and erratic activity. Fay had been wrecking her own head trying to think of something she could or should do. The Commander in Chief was desperate to steal the initiative back, she had even considered such rash actions as assassinating the Admiral - would that put an end to the Oracles plot or would it continue on without him. Unlike herself Sven only had one life, what would Ban do if he found out? When he found out? No, it was too risky even if the snake deserved it. Fay knew it was only this maddening wait that had her contemplating such self destructive insanity. The fekker was getting to her and then there was the Girl and the Devil still haunting the back of Fay’s mind not to mention Teb. Was her old associate right? Fay wondered.
The darkest angel made his way through his domain with Jess trailing beside him. The female pirate was slowly becoming his constant companion and good left hand. Another tripartite door shot open on its muscle springs and they passed through into the modified detention area. The main holding tank flooded cell was finally ready for the expected guests. Stocked with plankton, fish weed sand, rocks and coral the enclosed space looked more like a museum exhibit - a large lavish aquarium than a sinister detention centre. The waves and rippling light effect made by the filtration and aeration system only adding to the places watery charm.
‘You know this is actually quite relaxing’, said Tur Ryn watching the fish flit around in small shoals.
‘All the rocks are firmly glued into place and the microphones and cameras well hidden. It isn’t too pretty is it?’ asked Jess.
‘No, it is perfect. I want them to feel at home it will bend their minds all the more to be seen as decorative exhibits! Besides when they are alone perhaps they will forget themselves and discuss matters freely. I think it needs more weed lets give them places they can almost retreat too perhaps a rocky shelter in the corner there almost cave like - see to it my sweet!’ said Tur.
‘As you command my Devil’, said Jess.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 66 – Grossly Upstaging the Trial
Rav was glad this event was almost over. It had been a long outrageous night especially crazy after the press and cameras were removed in the dark of the morning! Now the Station morning proper beckoned from among the wreckage of the late debauch! Everybody who mattered on the RJL team were - by necessity - at this point running on stimulants. Rav was very tired ‘The Grim Reaper and his Victims Masked Ball’ had been pretty stressful - a security nightmare. Even with the best scanning equipment Rav had known it was still possible to conceal some hidden weapons. Due to many quandaries Ravn had been working like a machine - constantly linked up to the various (on board forces) teams seeking to cover every conceivable security gap.
Among Rav’s greatest fears had been the possibility of an all out assault. Garrin’s well planned arrival by GTD (Goner Transport Device) to the Hall of Stars only helped emphasise: that there was always way’s in - other than via the obvious front door! Recently to Ravn’s alarm Corporate Blocks had been blossoming around the station like rain shields in an AP thunder storm. As well as legitimate business it was anybodies guess what else was planned or done in the protected zones of off camera darkness. The Commander was especially distraught to have so many legitimate holes in his normally very wide AFC 4 security booths surveillance.
Ravn’s had been especially fearful that if a well armed team did penetrate the Hall of Stars all hell would inevitably break loose. With the function space filled with VIP’s you would have confusion, panic and an automatic hostage crisis! Anna and Garrin had both been given tiny traces just in case - with Slab being linked into a GTD running a routine to transport the RJL heads out at the first sign of trouble. Unfortunately Anna had forced herself into the emergency transport command structure - refusing to be pulled out without her own express permission! The RJL Administrator preferring to risk her own safety rather than jeopardise any opportunity to contact the kidnappers. Luckily from a protection point of view these extreme measures had not been tested, still the job wasn’t quite over yet while Anna’s desire for contact had proved unsatisfying.
Earlier when everything was in full swing Ravn had changed into his costume leaving Elaen in charge of door security. As just one more anonymous Reaper Rav had hovered - even danced - among the crowd to keep a close eye on unfolding events. Thus this morning the Chief of RJL Security was still in his Reaper suit and rather exhausted, and the party was rolling towards its final phases including the early (pre-breakfast) launch of the first Reaper Jump Liner - Reaper Alpha or ‘Ra’ as it was coming to be known. Having the Launch after the party had seemed like a back to front way of doing things, but was in actuality a deliberate ploy by Anna. The RJL Administrator planned to create a final publicity stunt using the VIP’s (at their most ragged) as bait for the cameras.
Rav found himself considering the secret diabolical scheme that Anna had cooked up. An anarchic operation he would soon - to his own disbelief - be helping to coordinate. This was the oddest assignment he had ever undertaken it both concerned and darkly amused him. As Anna had explained she knew some of the late arriving media boys wouldn’t be able to resist the chance of catching the notables and celebrities on the downside. Some Media Jocks loved to peddle ship wrecked images of VIP’s not looking at their best, or better still drunk and disorderly (antics involving the wealthy and alcohol were always welcome on lens since it was still prohibited by Federal Argon Law). Without doubt the serious business types and -A- list guests wouldn’t be caught so readily on the hop (knowing how to disguise their vices) but some of the famous for being famous crowd were prone to hysterical gaffs like fish were prone to swimming in water.
Nonetheless, Anna was taking no chances. A staged scene had been pre arranged. A number of publicity seeking parties where bribed with both the idea of being placed at the centre of extra coverage, not to mention with some tidy credit bonuses plus a few other hinted at non deductible incentives. If everything went to plan - the Launch Event would go horribly wrong from the onset - with chaos following hot upon the guests as they started to filter in to the temporarily decorated Docking Bay space with its cordoned off viewing areas and black ribbon draped Personnel Transport. The trouble was due to commence via a simple accident upon the red carpet - a guest being shoved out of the way by a too eager Anchor Argon. The resulting cat fight was to be a no holes barred affair which thanks to a few planted Reapers and guards would escalate into a widespread brawl.
The initial hostilities being between a well known but down on her luck Media Face called Bethany Yamaha and the slightly aging but still impressive female guest Alanis Sha a rather dodgy PVR actress renowned for her obscene assets, high temper and ah general… flexibility before the lens! Anna had even arranged for both the media jock and Alanis to eventually be - rather brutally - arrested with the aid of some members of the Legion in full Marine armour. It was hoped both females would become instant martyrs to their respective factions causes! If the Anchor Argons - rough arrest and unspecified duration of detainment - in particular failed to generate a stink among Beth’s media peers, and a lasting final flourish of publicity for RJL the Administrator didn’t know what would!
Anna had decided to go all out for notorious - she wanted the Ball to become a scandalous event of infamy. To assist the twisted little scheme various gems from the Ball itself caught on camera (captured during times and places when no lenses were supposed to be present) would also get leaked once the story of the fracas was loose. Not a few of these also included the brash star Alanis and her ilk in compromising positions with some important but foolish guests. Anna had also hired a secret team of PR gurus whose only mission was to spread rumours and gossip about the entire disgraceful function.
A second team this time lawyers would be very openly employed by RJL to hush the whole thing up on behalf of the esteemed guests - thus adding to the stories momentum. After all if you really wanted to publicise something - just try to ban it! The Grim Reaper and his Victims Ball was to be coloured as a flagship pinnacle in Corporate low taste vulgarity: an utterly degenerate and profligate affair - something that people could freely snigger over in the cycles ahead! Well evil smells - always travelled further - and caught the attention of more noses. Images of Reaper masked and cloaked guests and security guards and marines scuffling alone would make a fine pictures for inter-link news items and help promote the Reaper Jump Liner name.
The difficulty for Rav would be allowing the incident to get seemingly out of control whilst appearing to be trying to do the opposite. At the same time also monitoring the chaos in case somebody else tried to take advantage of the disorder. Anna’s bodyguard was also apprehensive that the fight might get genuinely out of hand. Ravn’s concern being that some innocent Argon might actually get really hurt, but he mused - few of the Argons involved could be deemed innocent - besides Rav knew he should have more than enough overt, and covert bodies on the scene to contain the action to just bruises and battered egos. Just in case quick access to medics had also been arranged.
Raven’s final worry however was something a little different. The idea that Anna was playing him. That she planned to use the staged event as a distraction to remove her trace and herself. Rav was scared that some deal had been made between Anna and Sven under that Portable Corporate Block. Anna was all wide eyed innocence but Rav now knew just how devious, and what a skilled dissembler his employer was - for this reason he had vowed to stick to the female like glue. Unfortunately if Anna fled Rav was far from sure he would be able to keep up after all the woman was a Station Runner skilled at negotiating crowded areas at great speed, chances were she would leave Rav far behind.
After the Lone Wolf Ishchi woke up from a solid nights sleep he triple checked all the systems including his customised navigation software in the taped down computer pad. Ishchi was running on AFC 4 station time now synchronised via another dropped satellite and the live news feed. The Insane Argon was drifting…waiting. When the time came the Modified Small Transport Relativistic Missile wouldn’t take too long to reach its intended target due to its almost constant acceleration.
Earlier the Freedom fighter had the ships computer do the math it wasn’t likely to be spot on, as he had made a few guesses on the input figures but it was he imagined a fair estimate. If all went well the target would be struck station time around about midday. Well the ETA was accurate enough for him, exactly when didn’t matter, Ishchi was more concerned with the validity of his aim. Luckily the vector would be adjusted as required by the ships still functional strafe drive.
Rud wasn’t too happy to be awake. The prisoner didn’t want to face another stupid Tribunal farce. The ex clerk just wanted to drift off in his mind to some other reality perhaps one under blue skies with dirt beneath his feet instead of cold steel. Rud wondered had he dreamed last night? If the condemned Argon had escaped to some inner place in his sleep he didn’t remember it - thinking about this felt especially cruel - it was as if even his subconscious had been locked up.
Rud was tired of all the stupid formalities. It was funny to think that this was - his Trial - it certainly didn’t feel like it belonged to him. Even Aelo seemed to have something to gain from the event. The Priest wanted the condemned to make a positive speech - would that absolve the Goner from any guilt he might feel for the legalised murder! Rud was convinced the Treason Trial belonged to just about everyone else except himself, he was just a fixture of a setting designed to promote others dreams and ambitions. Maybe that was why he couldn’t remember his own fantasy’s - they had all been stolen by the living - Rud knew he was nothing but a walking corpse.
Jollo felt shattered but had decided to see the event through to its close. Some foolish little competitive part of him refused to give in to weakness in front of these… youngsters! That had been one crazy party especially in the early hours of the morning after the press had been removed. When the alcohol had come out in earnest rather than being taken discreetly - such as a mere hint within that largely fruit juice punch. The Admiral had left before things started getting too wild, Jollo wondered had the Oracle foreseen the trend? Was the timing of Sven’s withdrawal intentional or accidental? Was the event now safer or more at risk with Sven departed back to his current on station lair? The Admiral had certainly proved the sensible one - avoiding any overt action - and he would be fresher than most come the Trial.
As difficult as Hale was and as much as he disliked the Argon - Jollo still felt sorry for him. Sven was all twisted up inside - the Revenant of Eighteen Billion said it all! The AF VP believed Sven might have some justification, but that Argon was still losing the plot. It was a shame as the Oracle was usually an effective anthropologist, but in this instance he was a poor one - lacking the necessary detachment - Hale had no grasp of his own factions truer nature. The Admiral was too optimistic and too pessimistic. The VP had been thinking it all over since their little debate. In Jollo’s estimation: Danna believed it was better for the agencies to bend or even break the law - as need required - than for those laws to suffer amendment! It was a question of sensitive balance which in the end described why Ban was happy to tolerate rogues (even among his lieutenants) yet also occasionally was forced to slap them down exceptionally hard. The way Jolo perceived it Ban understood how to use the Darkness against itself - without becoming the very thing he most hated - unfortunately others among his crew occasionally did not!
Sven’s likely grand design wouldn’t be a vector to the future it was a navigation point to hell. Rigid state control especially military regimes invariably failed because they were ultra conservative, stifled innovation and oppressed every rogue element not just the potential rebels, the anarchic pirates, but also every blessed free thinker! Dealing with Sven had finally enlightened Jollo to what Danna really did. It was the opposite of Sven: the head of Argon Intelligence set his operatives loose. It made life complicated birthing fluid rather than static policies, and fostered a degree of sibling rivalry / division that occasionally seemed unhealthy even counter productive. Nonetheless Danna’s unique solution kept the foul necessities hidden and the wider Argon race civil. It also kept the military and the agencies competitive - mostly policing each other - and thus moderating potential over enthusiasms.
Elaen was still getting over her blushes from earlier. Some of that stuff had been an education and made her feel like a prude. The Copper was glad that was over who would have believed the prim and proper Anna could have organised such a shocking development. Even Rav had seemed a little put out and red faced before the scene was over, maybe because Elaen was here too - after all Rav was a Grunt - and must have seen worse!
Still Elaen was glad to forget about that fiasco and look forward - to the bash - and her small part in the staged mock fight. El was to brawl with one of the Reapers. The Lt. Constable had taken a bit of convincing by Ravn to get involved in Anna’s dodgy scam. Once Elaen had been corrupted to the cause, however, the idea started to seem like a lot of fun - something everyone had been missing lately, well everyone except the less restrained guests last night!
Just thinking about the upcoming scam gave El butterfly’s in her stomach but it was an oddly pleasant feeling like the over excitement she remembered as a child before Present Giving! Rav had also taken El aside and asked her to keep an extra eye on Anna - just in case! This was Ravn explained why he was really glad Elaen was involved in the undertaking. Elaen for her own part had never had much opportunity to do any serious undercover work - which was what this at least felt like - so she planned to make the most of it.
Carl was back in Dress Uniform his more than lightly embarrassing stint as a Reaper over. The Commander was still feeling shocked at the degree to which the Ball had degenerated. Even though Anna had informed him - very last minute - of the fuller nature of her plan for the Ball nonetheless seeing some of the more exhibitionist individuals total lack of discretion had come as bit of a disappointment. Carl wasn’t sure what was worse: that these normally stolid and civilised Argons had so quickly stooped to such depths, that Anna had anticipated and facilitated the fact and knew they would, that Anna had proved a lot more devious and deviant than he had imagined, or that the worldly Commander had proved so outrageously naïve.
The Commander believed Anna and Garrin had gone way too far in his estimation, he planned to have serious words with both of them later. Nonetheless, when Anna had led him off by the hand - to a truly private spot - the Commander had still to his shame (given the others activities already in full swing in many cases right out in the open) followed. The Commander felt like a total hypocrite (after all what was the difference behind or in front of a screen it was all the same thing, but somehow it was different). Had times moved on so much while he stayed still, or had all these worthy individuals somehow had their drinks spiked? Or were wealthy Argons just this degenerate by nature, just how much trouble was, wondered the Commander, he in?
Anna was feeling very guilty but only on behalf of a few individuals. Carl of course didn’t yet know about the other stunt - still to be perpetrated at the Docking Bay! After seeing Carls reaction to the deliberate late morning debasement of the Ball, Anna had decided to keep him close by (where she could stay his hand if needed) but firmly in the dark. The Commander was to remain ignorant at least until it was too late for any noble intervention! Carl just never ceased to surprise and delight her. How had the Commander got to where we was today and still remained so well… innocent. All Anna could think was that people like Gregor must have been keeping their security officer’s blinkers very firmly on. Did Carl really believe Corporate Blockers were just used for signing contracts and discussing business deals.
Anna had always hated and despised the seedier side of business but she had been involved in organising lots of late night /early morning entertainment in her time - even if she had never physically taken part! In truth she couldn’t have pulled this scam off if many of the bodies here - didn’t wrongly trust her as a facilitator - from previous association notably via Gregor’s occasional extra special parties! What the fools including Gregor were forgetting was the fact that she no longer worked for AF. In a way Anna Dei had to admit it was a degree of revenge the Corporations like AF were still largely a male preserve at the highest levels with just a few exceptions. Leaving the R&D end (where things were more equal) to enter her role as PA Anna had been appalled at the way she was frequently talked down too, insulted, or treated like pass remarkable eye candy! In fact at one point or another by almost every male AF associated VIP in the Hall of Stars. Usually Anna didn’t mix business with pleasure, but when she had dreamed up this idea the Station Runner had decided to make one - for all time - glorious exception!
Sven was lying once more relaxing - luxuriating - in his bubbling tub. So this was it at last, now it was just a question of a little restraint. It wouldn’t do for the Admiral to be seen to have anticipated the news feed or his own agents reports from the field. No he would have to wait for the right moment before sending in his Marines to make the arrest. Once he had Anna in his custody he would have Danna’s manhood in a vice. The Oracle had not yet decided if he would let Danna quietly resign or force the whole affair out into a broad wide open enquiry. Without doubt an enquiry had its appeal and uses but it might give the Senate too much ammunition against his ANI rather than just Ban in particular. Still, thought Sven, it might be best to just play it tactically one move at a time according to how the pieces fell upon the board.
Fay still didn’t know what to make of Anna, but was having her heavily watched during this madness. The Portable Corporate Block had left her feeling very, very uneasy! Anna was a conundrum Fay just couldn’t read the female Professor. The Legions Commander in Chief felt like she was on a hair trigger. Running on stimulants Fay had worried her way through the night listening in on the secure com channels - waiting tensely! At the same time Fay had scouts scouring around the station looking for anything odd inside or outside. Yes even Marines sweeping the stations skin in vacuum suits The Lost for Words had been brought in so close to the station that from certain angles at a distance it looked like a newly added part of the silver structure. A bulky angry looking protrusion at odd with the stations other limbs which had a certain strangely ergonomic sleekness. The colossus carrier was armed and ready its pilots on high alert its squadrons of fighter craft - not counting those already out on patrol combat ready, its turrets constantly cycling for a target.
It was frustrating Fay hated playing a reactive game. If only Febr was conscious she missed her old goats conversation! So far there had been no change - her geniuses brain - still seemed to be in a scramble, full of odd and erratic activity. Fay had been wrecking her own head trying to think of something she could or should do. The Commander in Chief was desperate to steal the initiative back, she had even considered such rash actions as assassinating the Admiral - would that put an end to the Oracles plot or would it continue on without him. Unlike herself Sven only had one life, what would Ban do if he found out? When he found out? No, it was too risky even if the snake deserved it. Fay knew it was only this maddening wait that had her contemplating such self destructive insanity. The fekker was getting to her and then there was the Girl and the Devil still haunting the back of Fay’s mind not to mention Teb. Was her old associate right? Fay wondered.
The darkest angel made his way through his domain with Jess trailing beside him. The female pirate was slowly becoming his constant companion and good left hand. Another tripartite door shot open on its muscle springs and they passed through into the modified detention area. The main holding tank flooded cell was finally ready for the expected guests. Stocked with plankton, fish weed sand, rocks and coral the enclosed space looked more like a museum exhibit - a large lavish aquarium than a sinister detention centre. The waves and rippling light effect made by the filtration and aeration system only adding to the places watery charm.
‘You know this is actually quite relaxing’, said Tur Ryn watching the fish flit around in small shoals.
‘All the rocks are firmly glued into place and the microphones and cameras well hidden. It isn’t too pretty is it?’ asked Jess.
‘No, it is perfect. I want them to feel at home it will bend their minds all the more to be seen as decorative exhibits! Besides when they are alone perhaps they will forget themselves and discuss matters freely. I think it needs more weed lets give them places they can almost retreat too perhaps a rocky shelter in the corner there almost cave like - see to it my sweet!’ said Tur.
‘As you command my Devil’, said Jess.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Tue, 9. Oct 07, 23:47, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 67 – Infamous and Unruly
Despite the early morning timeline the Departure Bay Beta section was tightly packed with already impatient bodies. The officially cordoned off areas (fronting the red carpet that ran across to the awaiting Personnel Transport Reaper Alpha) was almost lost among a wider sea of mixed and excited Argons! The RJL Launch was proving a major draw something - Anna at least - considered no surprise.
Gregor had shockingly made the fateful decision to turn the two scheduled cycles of the Treason Trial into the first and perhaps last ever Official Complex Shut Down! To the utter disbelief of the majority of long term AFC 4 staff: individuals all too used to operating under the Administrators normally strict and relentless production policies. While many would later believe, or at least claim, this turn around was due to the fact that Gregor was soon to be leaving AF (in truth the Shut Down had long been on the cards) even if the idea was instigated when Gregor might not have been feeling entirely at his most rational!
According to the special schedule apart from essential operation team members on a shift rotation the AFC 4 Administrator had decided all members of his staff were to have the freedom and opportunity to witness justice being performed. Anna had of course known about this decision for a long time. The policy being finalised back when Anna was still working as Gregor’s PA! In fact the scheme had caused a major stir at the central office on AP and had required a degree of convincing argument.
Thankfully Argon nature being what it was: most of the station workers preferred to make the most of their - unexpected - holiday by viewing their supposed betters making complete fools of themselves in fancy dress - possibly even including their noble Administrator (hopefully hung over and or very drunk and disorderly). Many also wanted to catch a glimpse or more of the infamous actress Alanis Sha and her bevy of beauteous and almost equally celebrated (if not quite as heavily endowed) Co Stars. As much as the PVR attraction was according to most critics on the - rear end of her career - out here in Elena’s Fortune such infamous people were hardly on the remote station complex every cycle!
Other incentives to a high turn out had included the public relations device of some free gifts to randomly picked supporters of the launch (those caught on a roving camera at certain time stamps) as well as: it was said some open RJL tickets to Argon Prime and back, plus a chance to possibly meet the notorious out spoken and brash Alanis in person. A spurious rumour had also been circulated among the dock workers that there would be free space fuel for all comers - though really these blue collar workers should have known better! Despite Fuel being openly sold on station this fact was unlikely to be freely publicised to the Federation at large. On top of all these incentives some wild stories of the scandalous over the top behaviour at ‘The Grim Reaper and his Multitude of Victims’ ball had already commenced to deliberately trickle out supported by well aimed teaser shots of a few of the guests more elaborate costumes including Anna’s flimsy number, and Garrin impressive automaton. A short moving piece had also been released down the inter-link showing GR in full gregarious action chatting up a pretty spook, this had caused a good degree of interest in itself.
Anna had also primed curiosity by ensuring that certain PVR (Passive Virtual Reality) shows had been illegally circulated among the AFC 4 staff in the run up to the Ball. PVR’s including: the outrageous and banned title ‘Black Hole Sun’ a film still - officially - disowned by Alanis Sha despite it being her most memorable outing. The naughty entertainment being proscribed after a very well publicised bust up with one of Sha’s many previous promoters, and following a protracted and heavily publicised legal battle which of course only added to its infamy. ‘Black Hole Sun’ was also famous as being the subject of a legitimate docudrama which also featured the ample Alanis - playing the role of herself this time.
The legitimate piece delineated the purportedly shameful legal processes in which Sha had been according to the blurb - forcibly involved - to gain her eventual (against all odds) heroic victory over one despicable masculine user! A triumph that included a large credit settlement and formal admittance of guilt by her former lover and by law proven assaulter - the scoundrel who called himself within the business - Able Rascalle. The latter PVR - ah… melodrama - Anna had been able to push openly via the on station inter-link entertainment carousel. Otherwise the numbers in the crowd was boosted by even the presence of the otherwise detracting doomsayers - those fearful or suspicious of all those Reapers prancing about on station like crows upon a corpse. The superstitious being lured in like moths to an ominous flame - unable to resist tempting fate by witnessing the grim spectacle, and perhaps the dark consequences. All in all Anna and Garrin were very happy with their audience.
The masses resultant squeeze: the fact that the flat bay area wasn’t really set up for large crowds of this nature to view at a distance (including the deliberate omission of big screens) not to mention the singular lack of the previously rumoured alcohol - all contributed to some members of the crowd (including a number of paid plants - due to the RJL Administrators over management of the situation) being somewhat fractious loud and obnoxious as the VIP’s commenced to arrive in their long Halloween like parade train. Not everyone was present from the Ball some like Gregor and Admiral Hale had departed earlier, but there was still plenty of VIP substance for the voyeuristic crowds amusement and derision.
That a good few of the drafted Marine guards supposedly keeping the unwashed masses controlled and contained - from both the media and VIP sections - were Legion with added instructions to be: abusive, unnecessarily rough, and condescending to the crowd all assisted to the advanced blossoming in places of a very ugly mood. Anna would later come to realise that her decision to further antagonise the situation was a grievous mistake. The former PA had failed to appreciate the true depth of resentment on ArgonForge 4 (at this time) toward the grey uniformed Navy Marines - with their high handed ways! Although Anna was well aware of this antipathy she later confessed to misjudging the level of its overall intensity.
In the end Anna’s fear (the one that had heralded the over the top agitations) that the stunt might fizzle out rather than ignite some wider desired participation was grossly unfounded. The fact that many couldn’t see the initial staged fight when it erupted on schedule was fated to create a very physical swell of dissatisfaction through the entirety of the throng. A pushing drive that would lead invariably to an inevitable confrontation with the pressured curtailing guards - struggling through lack of numbers alone - to maintain a thin grey line of order. What was supposed to be a comparatively controlled staged public relation’s show swiftly due to these bubbling resentments - and Anna’s own misguided orders - spiralled into a full battle that would dwarf the scale of all the RJL Administrators (in this instance) foolish assumptions.
While Anna’s amateur and professional players worked up and through their in theory limited(?) fracas (which spilled deliberately into the Medias cordoned area to spawn its own smaller - almost - controlled anarchy) the other conflict was braking loose this particular scuffle free to expand without any pre arranged constraint. The trouble enhanced by the overall situation had sparked from a single - simple - occurrence as is usual with such matters. A lone dock worker pushing and being pushed forward - to see - was viciously struck three times with a shock stick by a restraining line holding Marine. Immediately roused to action the now unconscious workers furious concerned associates rushed in to rescue their comrade before he was - in their eyes - unjustifiably incarcerated. A wrestling match and fist fight over the shock stick victim’s unconscious body ensued. Due to the nature of an almost instantaneous rush and via their sheer weight of numbers, and despite two more individuals being immediately shocked, the crowd grabbed their wounded and brought the offending Marine hastily down. The armoured figure being given a repeated dose of his own raped electric weapon until he went limp and passed out. Other Marines quickly rushed in to protect / extract their fallen companion, and to exert proper authority upon the foolhardy law breakers - the cascading front exploded wide open.
Prior to the riotous events commencing above Elaen had been happy enough with her initial performance as she finally disposed of her staged Reaper assailant. More or less events were going as planned - despite the early over hostile herald of Sha’s duplicity. Then the small knot of combatants crashed headlong into the Media compound as expected. Ostensibly El as an RJL Security Helper was acting as an Official Steward by chasing down the crazed out of control actress. Alanis in turn was chasing the already overly brutalised, stumbling and crawling Anchor Argon Bethany Yamaha. Bethany for her part - even if she was still technically following the script - was without question also truly desperate to escape her rampaging adversary. Therefore the wounded News Argon fled as best she could into the protection of her peer group - weeping and crying out for real not theatrical assistance. Bethany had taken a cruel pounding to her horror and shock far above and beyond the call of any duty to the hidden plot! Elaen nonetheless couldn’t do very much about this from her current position having been taken off guard by Sha’s actions. Nonetheless initially the off duty Copper still felt tactically on top of her own game plan until Sha’s brute of a bodyguard (who had supposedly been kept out of the theatrical loop like many others) had barrelled Elaen rudely aside from behind. As Elaen sprawled forward toward the ground the bruiser idly tried to floor her completely with a nasty kick to the side of the head - all somehow just in passing.
After skilfully dodging the powerful, but telegraphed kick by the bulky fekker as he sped on, El rolled to a crouch and angrily looked up. Ahead only partially obscured from direct line of sight by other mobile figures Alanis was revealed in a full and rather remarkable frenzy - attacking every media jock in reach and or any who attempted to block her direct path toward the terrified and already bloody Bethany. Yamaha at this stage was being dragged away backwards by a thoughtful rescuing associate! To Elaen’s surprise the pale skinned ghost that was Alanis Sha not only employed tooth and claw, but also some very competent well instigated and perfectly timed martial arts moves. It seemed obvious the Star had her own private plan and vendetta going outside any prior agreement. The Actress clearly wanted to make the most of this situations rare opportunities: intent on trouncing as many hated Media Jocks as possible - before, if not rather than, being restrained as was supposed to be the case. The brawling well endowed bottle blond certainly had her aggressive endeavour well in hand. To Elaen’s continuing surprise Sha was showing herself to be a more than able combatant. Targeting specific individuals with very cutting and personal insults Sha punctuated these vitriolic remarks with a series of sharp, fast and fully incapacitating blows that knocked her - attempting to retreat or reason - victims into rapidly falling submission. Elaen noticed how many of the blows brutally struck in varying sequence the stomach head and groin sometimes all three on one target in quick combination.
Disorder was ensuing all around as Argons went under or attempted to lash back. Many others willing or unwillingly were now joined to the immediate affray. Sha, Elaen noticed was also hastily backed up by her Co Stars who rushed in to create a crudely coordinated but tight enough fighting wedge formation of unrepentantly cruel and adept Amazonians (much to the wrong footed Media crews utter consternation). Of course these ah… fragile belles were also supported by a few lumbering bodyguards who added a degree of crude brute muscle power. A shocking degree of further damage El noted was shamelessly being applied to individuals who had already collapsed. The Media Faces totally ill prepared for this turn of events were putting up only a feeble resistance, with one or two minor exceptions, soon the bulk were dropping like leaves from a well shaken tree.
Matters were only slightly brought into balance when the News Argons own security guards (who had been lounging rather idly about in a separate group) very belatedly realised what was going down and dived into the battle in their employers defence, a few of these security Argon’s using civilian shock sticks to at first reasonable result. Unfortunately a couple of very able Reapers jumped in to forestall any further success by this reinforcement - further bolstering the defence of the wicked femme fatales already almost victorious assault. That might look good on camera, thought Elaen as the Reapers danced with the security, but it really wasn’t a great tactical move given the fact that Sha and her entourage had gone way beyond the original plan and looked to be taking the entire field. The one sided result being that only two of the less able girls were temporarily put out of action before the guards were also all but overcome. The media plus their few remaining supporters were then driven in to a full rout - either fleeing the scene as best they could, rolling around in pain, or slumbering on the hard metal deck fully unconscious!
Having been almost ignored as she watched the unfolding debacle with a growing degree of fascination Elaen regained her feet and carefully sized up the very fluid situation. The battle was now moving swiftly away as an erratic fractured pursuit. El finally simply decided - to hell with it anyway, and committing herself to follow after. First though El did look briefly around one last time for the expected but nonexistent Marines. The military should have been ramming in hard to arrest the initial pair of female gladiators while staging a little side fight with the Reapers (as in the plan) but of this now perhaps defunct show piece counter attack there was absolutely no sign! Wondering how it had all gone so wrong it was at this point in the proceedings that El’s (via her link) began to realise the nature of the fuller riot progressing on her own actions far flank.
A few Marines were actually down out there, and it therefore looked like Elaen - for the moment at least - was on her own. All the serious military resources had mobilised to concentrate their efforts by re-establishing order in the more serious unscripted disturbance. Halting to pull out and extend her own shock stick EL decided she would at least try to take down the crazy (taking advantage) Scarlet Starlet herself (hoping that if she removed the head, the rest of the body would come quietly). The difficulty for Elaen with this scheme was the fact that somehow she would have to make it through the body strewn mess, and the Actresses allies to get within reach of the improvising blonde disaster.
Unfortunately just as El commenced to make her way forward in a sneaky flanking manoeuvre she was jumped by a blue skin painted female ghoul straggler. With the Reaper’s Ball Victim on top of her back EL found herself once more sprawled on the uncomfortable deck with a few more body bruises to her immense frustration. The blue tart with her arms wrapped around El’s neck was desperately trying to choke the off duty copper into submission (with little success) due to the rigid neck protection that formed part of Elaen’s under armour. El was very glad to be making use of that gift from Ravn. The Lt. Constable was also amused to find she still had a very firm grip on her weapon and at this juncture no hesitation in introducing this to the hissing catty Spook. A full sizzling charge painfully bolted directly into the ghouls unprotected fleshy side. Elaen sighed with a degree of satisfaction as the blue body juddered around over her then slid away. It really was going to be one of those cycles! Oddly El was still overall feeling pretty good - despite a few minor scrapes and bruises - even quite happy, making the Copper wonder if being with Rav was getting to her better sensibilities! As EL straightened up she was both informed by link and soon noticed backup on the way in the form of Josh and a group of his stolid security buddies. El after checking the recharge on her stick was working OK prepared to advance in once more - this time - with added support! Somewhere up head she could just about hear Sha’s annoyingly over the top husky sexy voice cutting through the din. The Actress was taunting the hapless cornered still bleeding Bethany with all the horrible things she was about to do to her.
A little earlier…
‘What the fek’ shouted Carl making to move towards the sudden ferocious female fight. Well fight wasn’t really the right word - the big breasted actress was wiping the deck with the slender - willowy - female Argon News Speaker. The idiotic fool that had roughly shoved the PVR Star aside in a brash attempt to speak with Garrin or perhaps with the puppet GR was getting bounced around like a Split’s punch bag. As Carl watched Bethany was thrown across the red carpet losing a fist full of luxurious black hair from the top of her head in the process! The scream of agony released at that exact moment was horrendous in its painful pitch, and the following sobs were pitiful to behold, but Alanis didn‘t seem to have any pity for the target of her unreasoning anger whatsoever! Hell, thought Anna, Sha seemed to be smacking the Broadcaster around for real and enjoying it too - what was that about? Nonetheless, Anna still sought to keep Carl out of the drastic situation.
‘Let it go’, said Anna to Carls horror restraining him by the arm, ‘it’s all good for the show! Besides you are supposed to be protecting me’, Anna simpered leaning against the Commander to her own disgust, ‘this could just be a deliberate distraction. Anyway’, she continued feeling a bit dim, ‘look there goes Elaen she will sort this stupidity out! Oops guess that Reaper must be a fan of the vexatious vixen Rav isn’t going to like that. Ah… here comes more guards. Damn down they go… that skull face has a few moves - I wonder who it is? Ah he shouldn’t have turned his back to Elaen she has him now ouch… that had to hurt - I didn‘t think Coppers were supposed to do that sort of thing! Paranidia’s Triple Eyes, look at Sha move’, laughed Anna as the star jumped into the cordoned off section and started flooring all resistance in hot pursuit of the now crawling Media Face, ‘who would have believed that washed up old actress had it in her. I thought all those moves in her action sequences were completely… put on - not so special - special effects! I wonder is she thinking of entering the professional fighting circuit’, mocked Anna laughing.
‘I don’t believe this’ said Carl watching the action while listening to his partners happy commentary, ‘get a grip Anna - this isn’t some jolly PVR! This crowd I don’t like it - didn’t you sense the mood when we came in they seemed fekkin agitated to me! You would almost think… Hell something is going down over there at the other side. Abyss, said Carl, flicking through the secure channels. One of the Marines is down, no make that two! This debacle is turning into a god cursed riot. I knew this crazy ball was a bad idea! Right we need to get you and the VIP’s out. I suggest you make use of that emergency Goner Transport Device if it is still set up’, said the Commander all business, ‘I’m calling in reinforcements before this thing gets totally out of control!’
‘Don’t over react Carl’, said Anna, ‘the bay is crawling with security. Relax and enjoy the parade - you’re not actually officially on duty you know - you’re an RJL guest!’
‘Anna I wouldn’t tell you how to run your office. I’m not joking this isn’t funny. We might have lots of security down here but we are still outnumbered what ten / twenty to one? Look at that mess over there - people are going to get trampled and crushed - even if they don’t all beat each others brains out!’ noted Carl worried, ‘You know I think I might even have them cut the artificial gravity here’, he also considered using El’s white noise sound stunt with the speakers, but they were still bogged down with Tribunal complaints over ear damage from the last time.
Rav saw Sha thunder into the media enclosure, there goes that neighbourhood, he thought. Fek the female had just laid down three guys with little more than three blows - that sort of thing wasn’t in anybodies action script. The Chief was feeling very sorry for the really brutalised Bethany and hoped she managed to get away. Rav wondered what amount of damage would satisfy the mad slut! The stupid Argnu was supposed to - be acting - all insane, but intoxicated not laying about herself for real like some psychotic sadist or a martial arts trained demonic underworld she devil - amateurs! It looked like Elaen was going to be a little hard pressed, suffering from actions well outside the plan, due to this Rav felt a little split in two. Then the riot hit his communication - link. Sonra what have we done? the Chief questioned inwardly.
Rav immediately sent the pre-arranged emergency cut off signal. The team now knew to stop any pretence under the charade, and to get down to the essential business of securing the prime targets. However, Ravn could already tell it wasn’t going to be all that easy or straight forward, everything was already pretty mixed up, and not everyone even in the proximity of the supposedly - mostly - mock battle was playing anymore. Pulling out his computer pad Ravn started punching through camera views of the battling bay. It didn’t look good hostilities were spreading at an alarming rate. Still, the Chief hoped, it should yet be possible to shepherd the VIP’s into the Liner itself - as per the back up scheme. Needing to stay cool and in control Rav sent Josh and his team piling in to help back up (and / or if needed) extract Elaen.
Elsewhere somehow Garrin had managed to get himself into a troublesome knot - well he had sloped off with GR still hovering behind him to get a better view of the hilarious fun. Unluckily a surge by the milling masses breaking through the cordons had cut him off. The press of bodies threatening to crush. To force a bit of space, and later (he had to confess) out of a degree of sheer rising panic - as he laboured for a breath - Garrin had commenced to lash out at those squeezing in around him. GR’s operator sensing the immediate peril had followed suit with a more serious offence of its own - herding the crowd away by the power of the stick.
Luckily before entering the bay GR had made Garrin remove the very sharp - very real - scythe blade from the handle replacing this with a less dangerous if somewhat less intimidating rubbery mock up. Now the puppet fought for space by whacking around itself and G with the scythes handle - occasionally dropping those too slow or stupid to give way. The potent if makeshift weapon hitting out like an oddly shaped quarterstaff. The original frame and build quality of the puppet was engineered surprisingly strong - its parts largely salvaged from old and out of date industrial mechanisms - by its builder. Old Matsumishi couldn’t afford new components or materials and worked extensively with salvage and scrap to make his various fantastic stage creations.
The whole situation once the main peril lessened a tad became both comic and fantastical. GR’s voice box booming out thunderous one liner - jibes and threats with dramatic abandon, somebody was having a field day - between the puppet dishing out rude gestures with one free pneumatic claw, and largely just goading clouts using the weapon clasped firmly in the powerful grip of its left hand.
‘Take that you filthy mortal’, shouted the animated Grim Reaper from the fold of its hood, followed hotly by an evil sounding crunch and scream to the couriers mild alarm, ‘sorry art thou now, yet not half sorry enough!’
Moments later another worrisome crack was followed by a cry of pain and, ‘Thou hast been judged and found wanting cur. I pray this floor forgive your careless trespass!’
Garrin now able to breathe more freely ceased punching and kicked with abandon and concentrated on ascertaining a safe route out. Due to GR’s swift interventions the courier was soon encountering little in the way of stiff or persistent resistance. Having got the hang of balancing the suspensor fields needed to carry GR’s weighty bulk G also found he could actually use these himself for added stability - when pressed in fact he could virtually float along - and was beginning to feel far less threatened. At this point Garrin belatedly remembered that he could also have just Goner Transported himself clean out of the situation. However, since he was now enjoying himself again the courier decided to just go along with the flow.
‘Taste sturdy oak knave‘ continued the rampaging skeleton, ‘blood and souls for the long dark that drowns out your feeble light’, followed by - a final - especially sinister dullish thud and slump!
‘Hey, you evil fekker take it easy GR’, warned Garrin seeing a figure topple out of the corner of his eye, ‘remember that is still a serious bit of wood, you could really do some permanent damage!’
‘Get thee hence or suffer my wrath’, screamed Garrin’s Reaper seeming to ignore G’s warning while showing one potential, but now wisely fleeing combatant a rude bony finger with its right hand, ‘dance upon my digit you cowardly spawn of unworthy note! Flee well - look not behind, or fall and arise not!’
Something - possibly a metallic drinks canister - sailed out from a distance to careen off the back of GR’s head followed by a knot of laughter from a couple of ducking youths.
‘Hah, you moronic fleshy carrion quail before thy judge, I feel not such minor knocks, nor will any cut that parts mere flesh - strike fear - or mark upon these hallowed bones’, said the puppet seeing to wax further lyrical as the wood swished about in an area of now decently empty space, ‘after those felons friend. Run you child of the soil, or suffer my furious scorn you lowly laggards you worm bait - make way for the Reaper you sons of flea bitten mother hounds - there is no teat for your succour here!’
‘This is crazy’ said Garrin now laughing as he propelled himself along in a scythe pole maintained space towards the general direction of Reaper Alpha. Around G the wood was now spinning without opposition like a low tech shield back and forth. Garrin found himself worrying that the puppets hand joint - sturdy though it was - might give under all this strain and launch the wood to strike either himself or some other unfortunate.
‘Onward oh courier…who will dance this merry morning with the Reaper, come, come I bring the gift of rest upon this staff o’ mine - if you would but bend your pretty head and offer up your fragile skull to this timbre’, yelled the puppet with a glowing wink and a hollow laugh.
‘Somebody better be getting all this little gig on camera for posterity or I’m going to be mighty disappointed’, noted G , ‘easy with that wood.’
‘Fear not o’ child of the night for the Reaper is with thee. Once past that pale what hast thou left to fear - lest it be that thee should awaken - and with shock learn death hast claimed thee not!’ laughed GR.
Garrin found himself wrecking his brains - trying to figure out - which idiot member of his crew had jumped in to make with the tongue twisting. They better have good sound quality on the recording too, he thought smirking.
‘Ah our silver chariot awaits. Forward even onto that breach that is filled with yonder walking dead. Oh… how those spirits vex me with their restless wanderings from my dark estate! Hurry make haste we are expected, we arise like a plague hosted upon this unruly sea of souls that have not the will to bar our egress!’ boomed the puppet, ’for we must by our nature float, see how it is - ever thus - how we rise. For ours are the dark spaces that separate the palest of the stars, the gates and the tunnels of holy fire between.’
Jollo sitting in first class - didn’t quite know what to make of all that - but it had wakened him up better than a crate load of coffee. Looking through to the outside via one porthole the AF VP could see that a degree of chaos was still rampant. However, now at least most of the principles on the guest list were sheltering safely in Reaper alpha. The launch had been not surprisingly temporarily delayed. Garrin was perhaps the last mainstay to arrive along with his still very animated shadow. The puppet was - incessantly babbling - for possibly nothing more than its hidden remote operators own bizarre amusement? Outside the bay looked like a battle zone, but with the VIP’s safe in the TP Jollo knew the riot could now be easily ended with sleep gas or several other broad effect possibilities. As the VIP was thinking this an alarm sounded and the artificial gravity in the bay was selectively removed - well that tactic would diffuse the fight too.
Jollo almost wished he could have joined in with the brawl, but he didn’t really feel connected to any of the sides. The viciousness of the Starlet had shocked him. The Actress obviously had some very serious issues to work through, and was no doubt destined for a stay in a clinic of some nature! In a way though - watching the violence especially up so close though violence was something he usually detested - had been quite invigorating. To Jollo's mild shame: taking the VP back to a more raw, idealistic and rash youth. For a time even Jollo had viewed the Universe as black and white. The ArgonForge dignitary realised he hadn’t been involved (up close) to a fracas of the recent incidents nature since his student days. Something about a mob could still be deceptively attractive.
In particular the AF VP remembered one passionate protest outside the Split embassy against the Space Fly Trade that had gotten out of control. The by intention - non violent parade - had ended in a very different brutal confrontation with the AP riot police. As a consequence of that AP riot Jollo had broken his detention cherry - much to his parents continuing frustration - he had been almost another person back then. It made him wonder how much it had really been about the endangered species now, and how much about the rigours and artificial restraints of modern society: The youthful distaste for all rules and regulations. Sometimes it seemed like rebellion was as natural to the Argon spirit as breathing air. It was a pity Sven and Gregor had both missed this lovely educational spectacle! Still maybe they lacked the character to appreciate the bright colours and warning signs such Argon venting painted. No doubt they would just regard such affronts as the plebeians acting up again.
Occasionally it was therapeutic to do a little - relatively harmless violence - even perhaps artistic according to some (?) It didn’t do any good to hold the darkness in too much. Jollo at least understood the need for the release of social pressure (for valves) in places like this. Tomorrow many individuals including those with battle bruises would feel a little better - despite any aches and pains. A few of course would just harbour even deeper resentments but nothing was a perfect solution to every social ill. In the old days psyche testing had been much more thorough in space, but with ever increasing numbers living in the void the old high standards had been relaxed. Jollo suspected Gregor had been pushing the workers too hard and the security recently squeezing them too tight. It didn’t do to remind people too much that they were not as free - to come and go - as they might wish to delude themselves.
Overly lawful society by its too restraining nature created not just the occasional madman but also a lot of internal anger. It was all a question of balance. The VP realised operations like AFC 4 needed some better form of release. The VP feared - the pent up ones - those who didn’t easily express their dissatisfactions so readily (the quiet and seemingly self contained). Argons that kept it all locked up and buried inside were like over pressurised canisters - their frustrations would strain against the invisible and unnatural bounds until: one morning they bought a weapon and butchered their family, or on a station opened an airlock, or aimed their ship and flew straight into the virtually unbreakable superstructure of a jump gate.
Suicides and murders happened in space all too often these cycles. Argon's occasionally needed to go primitive to work through a limited degree of savagery - hopefully before the pressure became so great that hurting themselves or somebody else became an almost inevitable consequence - more contact sports perhaps, thought the VP. It was just a fact of life that too much law always bred rebellion and anarchy.
Outside another series of Marines this time in heavy duty vac suits were emerging to round up the living floating debris. Some would go back to their cubicles and dormitories, others to the infirmary, a few to detention. With luck none would be on route to the real Reapers domain, but that remained to be seen! Jollo wondered who or what exactly had truly been behind this particular affairs timing - beyond the general station conditions. Being naturally suspicious he didn’t believe in too many major happy, or unhappy accidents at least not until they were proven as such. It would be another little puzzle for him to try and figure out if he had the time later, and a reason to believe it mattered.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 67 – Infamous and Unruly
Despite the early morning timeline the Departure Bay Beta section was tightly packed with already impatient bodies. The officially cordoned off areas (fronting the red carpet that ran across to the awaiting Personnel Transport Reaper Alpha) was almost lost among a wider sea of mixed and excited Argons! The RJL Launch was proving a major draw something - Anna at least - considered no surprise.
Gregor had shockingly made the fateful decision to turn the two scheduled cycles of the Treason Trial into the first and perhaps last ever Official Complex Shut Down! To the utter disbelief of the majority of long term AFC 4 staff: individuals all too used to operating under the Administrators normally strict and relentless production policies. While many would later believe, or at least claim, this turn around was due to the fact that Gregor was soon to be leaving AF (in truth the Shut Down had long been on the cards) even if the idea was instigated when Gregor might not have been feeling entirely at his most rational!
According to the special schedule apart from essential operation team members on a shift rotation the AFC 4 Administrator had decided all members of his staff were to have the freedom and opportunity to witness justice being performed. Anna had of course known about this decision for a long time. The policy being finalised back when Anna was still working as Gregor’s PA! In fact the scheme had caused a major stir at the central office on AP and had required a degree of convincing argument.
Thankfully Argon nature being what it was: most of the station workers preferred to make the most of their - unexpected - holiday by viewing their supposed betters making complete fools of themselves in fancy dress - possibly even including their noble Administrator (hopefully hung over and or very drunk and disorderly). Many also wanted to catch a glimpse or more of the infamous actress Alanis Sha and her bevy of beauteous and almost equally celebrated (if not quite as heavily endowed) Co Stars. As much as the PVR attraction was according to most critics on the - rear end of her career - out here in Elena’s Fortune such infamous people were hardly on the remote station complex every cycle!
Other incentives to a high turn out had included the public relations device of some free gifts to randomly picked supporters of the launch (those caught on a roving camera at certain time stamps) as well as: it was said some open RJL tickets to Argon Prime and back, plus a chance to possibly meet the notorious out spoken and brash Alanis in person. A spurious rumour had also been circulated among the dock workers that there would be free space fuel for all comers - though really these blue collar workers should have known better! Despite Fuel being openly sold on station this fact was unlikely to be freely publicised to the Federation at large. On top of all these incentives some wild stories of the scandalous over the top behaviour at ‘The Grim Reaper and his Multitude of Victims’ ball had already commenced to deliberately trickle out supported by well aimed teaser shots of a few of the guests more elaborate costumes including Anna’s flimsy number, and Garrin impressive automaton. A short moving piece had also been released down the inter-link showing GR in full gregarious action chatting up a pretty spook, this had caused a good degree of interest in itself.
Anna had also primed curiosity by ensuring that certain PVR (Passive Virtual Reality) shows had been illegally circulated among the AFC 4 staff in the run up to the Ball. PVR’s including: the outrageous and banned title ‘Black Hole Sun’ a film still - officially - disowned by Alanis Sha despite it being her most memorable outing. The naughty entertainment being proscribed after a very well publicised bust up with one of Sha’s many previous promoters, and following a protracted and heavily publicised legal battle which of course only added to its infamy. ‘Black Hole Sun’ was also famous as being the subject of a legitimate docudrama which also featured the ample Alanis - playing the role of herself this time.
The legitimate piece delineated the purportedly shameful legal processes in which Sha had been according to the blurb - forcibly involved - to gain her eventual (against all odds) heroic victory over one despicable masculine user! A triumph that included a large credit settlement and formal admittance of guilt by her former lover and by law proven assaulter - the scoundrel who called himself within the business - Able Rascalle. The latter PVR - ah… melodrama - Anna had been able to push openly via the on station inter-link entertainment carousel. Otherwise the numbers in the crowd was boosted by even the presence of the otherwise detracting doomsayers - those fearful or suspicious of all those Reapers prancing about on station like crows upon a corpse. The superstitious being lured in like moths to an ominous flame - unable to resist tempting fate by witnessing the grim spectacle, and perhaps the dark consequences. All in all Anna and Garrin were very happy with their audience.
The masses resultant squeeze: the fact that the flat bay area wasn’t really set up for large crowds of this nature to view at a distance (including the deliberate omission of big screens) not to mention the singular lack of the previously rumoured alcohol - all contributed to some members of the crowd (including a number of paid plants - due to the RJL Administrators over management of the situation) being somewhat fractious loud and obnoxious as the VIP’s commenced to arrive in their long Halloween like parade train. Not everyone was present from the Ball some like Gregor and Admiral Hale had departed earlier, but there was still plenty of VIP substance for the voyeuristic crowds amusement and derision.
That a good few of the drafted Marine guards supposedly keeping the unwashed masses controlled and contained - from both the media and VIP sections - were Legion with added instructions to be: abusive, unnecessarily rough, and condescending to the crowd all assisted to the advanced blossoming in places of a very ugly mood. Anna would later come to realise that her decision to further antagonise the situation was a grievous mistake. The former PA had failed to appreciate the true depth of resentment on ArgonForge 4 (at this time) toward the grey uniformed Navy Marines - with their high handed ways! Although Anna was well aware of this antipathy she later confessed to misjudging the level of its overall intensity.
In the end Anna’s fear (the one that had heralded the over the top agitations) that the stunt might fizzle out rather than ignite some wider desired participation was grossly unfounded. The fact that many couldn’t see the initial staged fight when it erupted on schedule was fated to create a very physical swell of dissatisfaction through the entirety of the throng. A pushing drive that would lead invariably to an inevitable confrontation with the pressured curtailing guards - struggling through lack of numbers alone - to maintain a thin grey line of order. What was supposed to be a comparatively controlled staged public relation’s show swiftly due to these bubbling resentments - and Anna’s own misguided orders - spiralled into a full battle that would dwarf the scale of all the RJL Administrators (in this instance) foolish assumptions.
While Anna’s amateur and professional players worked up and through their in theory limited(?) fracas (which spilled deliberately into the Medias cordoned area to spawn its own smaller - almost - controlled anarchy) the other conflict was braking loose this particular scuffle free to expand without any pre arranged constraint. The trouble enhanced by the overall situation had sparked from a single - simple - occurrence as is usual with such matters. A lone dock worker pushing and being pushed forward - to see - was viciously struck three times with a shock stick by a restraining line holding Marine. Immediately roused to action the now unconscious workers furious concerned associates rushed in to rescue their comrade before he was - in their eyes - unjustifiably incarcerated. A wrestling match and fist fight over the shock stick victim’s unconscious body ensued. Due to the nature of an almost instantaneous rush and via their sheer weight of numbers, and despite two more individuals being immediately shocked, the crowd grabbed their wounded and brought the offending Marine hastily down. The armoured figure being given a repeated dose of his own raped electric weapon until he went limp and passed out. Other Marines quickly rushed in to protect / extract their fallen companion, and to exert proper authority upon the foolhardy law breakers - the cascading front exploded wide open.
Prior to the riotous events commencing above Elaen had been happy enough with her initial performance as she finally disposed of her staged Reaper assailant. More or less events were going as planned - despite the early over hostile herald of Sha’s duplicity. Then the small knot of combatants crashed headlong into the Media compound as expected. Ostensibly El as an RJL Security Helper was acting as an Official Steward by chasing down the crazed out of control actress. Alanis in turn was chasing the already overly brutalised, stumbling and crawling Anchor Argon Bethany Yamaha. Bethany for her part - even if she was still technically following the script - was without question also truly desperate to escape her rampaging adversary. Therefore the wounded News Argon fled as best she could into the protection of her peer group - weeping and crying out for real not theatrical assistance. Bethany had taken a cruel pounding to her horror and shock far above and beyond the call of any duty to the hidden plot! Elaen nonetheless couldn’t do very much about this from her current position having been taken off guard by Sha’s actions. Nonetheless initially the off duty Copper still felt tactically on top of her own game plan until Sha’s brute of a bodyguard (who had supposedly been kept out of the theatrical loop like many others) had barrelled Elaen rudely aside from behind. As Elaen sprawled forward toward the ground the bruiser idly tried to floor her completely with a nasty kick to the side of the head - all somehow just in passing.
After skilfully dodging the powerful, but telegraphed kick by the bulky fekker as he sped on, El rolled to a crouch and angrily looked up. Ahead only partially obscured from direct line of sight by other mobile figures Alanis was revealed in a full and rather remarkable frenzy - attacking every media jock in reach and or any who attempted to block her direct path toward the terrified and already bloody Bethany. Yamaha at this stage was being dragged away backwards by a thoughtful rescuing associate! To Elaen’s surprise the pale skinned ghost that was Alanis Sha not only employed tooth and claw, but also some very competent well instigated and perfectly timed martial arts moves. It seemed obvious the Star had her own private plan and vendetta going outside any prior agreement. The Actress clearly wanted to make the most of this situations rare opportunities: intent on trouncing as many hated Media Jocks as possible - before, if not rather than, being restrained as was supposed to be the case. The brawling well endowed bottle blond certainly had her aggressive endeavour well in hand. To Elaen’s continuing surprise Sha was showing herself to be a more than able combatant. Targeting specific individuals with very cutting and personal insults Sha punctuated these vitriolic remarks with a series of sharp, fast and fully incapacitating blows that knocked her - attempting to retreat or reason - victims into rapidly falling submission. Elaen noticed how many of the blows brutally struck in varying sequence the stomach head and groin sometimes all three on one target in quick combination.
Disorder was ensuing all around as Argons went under or attempted to lash back. Many others willing or unwillingly were now joined to the immediate affray. Sha, Elaen noticed was also hastily backed up by her Co Stars who rushed in to create a crudely coordinated but tight enough fighting wedge formation of unrepentantly cruel and adept Amazonians (much to the wrong footed Media crews utter consternation). Of course these ah… fragile belles were also supported by a few lumbering bodyguards who added a degree of crude brute muscle power. A shocking degree of further damage El noted was shamelessly being applied to individuals who had already collapsed. The Media Faces totally ill prepared for this turn of events were putting up only a feeble resistance, with one or two minor exceptions, soon the bulk were dropping like leaves from a well shaken tree.
Matters were only slightly brought into balance when the News Argons own security guards (who had been lounging rather idly about in a separate group) very belatedly realised what was going down and dived into the battle in their employers defence, a few of these security Argon’s using civilian shock sticks to at first reasonable result. Unfortunately a couple of very able Reapers jumped in to forestall any further success by this reinforcement - further bolstering the defence of the wicked femme fatales already almost victorious assault. That might look good on camera, thought Elaen as the Reapers danced with the security, but it really wasn’t a great tactical move given the fact that Sha and her entourage had gone way beyond the original plan and looked to be taking the entire field. The one sided result being that only two of the less able girls were temporarily put out of action before the guards were also all but overcome. The media plus their few remaining supporters were then driven in to a full rout - either fleeing the scene as best they could, rolling around in pain, or slumbering on the hard metal deck fully unconscious!
Having been almost ignored as she watched the unfolding debacle with a growing degree of fascination Elaen regained her feet and carefully sized up the very fluid situation. The battle was now moving swiftly away as an erratic fractured pursuit. El finally simply decided - to hell with it anyway, and committing herself to follow after. First though El did look briefly around one last time for the expected but nonexistent Marines. The military should have been ramming in hard to arrest the initial pair of female gladiators while staging a little side fight with the Reapers (as in the plan) but of this now perhaps defunct show piece counter attack there was absolutely no sign! Wondering how it had all gone so wrong it was at this point in the proceedings that El’s (via her link) began to realise the nature of the fuller riot progressing on her own actions far flank.
A few Marines were actually down out there, and it therefore looked like Elaen - for the moment at least - was on her own. All the serious military resources had mobilised to concentrate their efforts by re-establishing order in the more serious unscripted disturbance. Halting to pull out and extend her own shock stick EL decided she would at least try to take down the crazy (taking advantage) Scarlet Starlet herself (hoping that if she removed the head, the rest of the body would come quietly). The difficulty for Elaen with this scheme was the fact that somehow she would have to make it through the body strewn mess, and the Actresses allies to get within reach of the improvising blonde disaster.
Unfortunately just as El commenced to make her way forward in a sneaky flanking manoeuvre she was jumped by a blue skin painted female ghoul straggler. With the Reaper’s Ball Victim on top of her back EL found herself once more sprawled on the uncomfortable deck with a few more body bruises to her immense frustration. The blue tart with her arms wrapped around El’s neck was desperately trying to choke the off duty copper into submission (with little success) due to the rigid neck protection that formed part of Elaen’s under armour. El was very glad to be making use of that gift from Ravn. The Lt. Constable was also amused to find she still had a very firm grip on her weapon and at this juncture no hesitation in introducing this to the hissing catty Spook. A full sizzling charge painfully bolted directly into the ghouls unprotected fleshy side. Elaen sighed with a degree of satisfaction as the blue body juddered around over her then slid away. It really was going to be one of those cycles! Oddly El was still overall feeling pretty good - despite a few minor scrapes and bruises - even quite happy, making the Copper wonder if being with Rav was getting to her better sensibilities! As EL straightened up she was both informed by link and soon noticed backup on the way in the form of Josh and a group of his stolid security buddies. El after checking the recharge on her stick was working OK prepared to advance in once more - this time - with added support! Somewhere up head she could just about hear Sha’s annoyingly over the top husky sexy voice cutting through the din. The Actress was taunting the hapless cornered still bleeding Bethany with all the horrible things she was about to do to her.
A little earlier…
‘What the fek’ shouted Carl making to move towards the sudden ferocious female fight. Well fight wasn’t really the right word - the big breasted actress was wiping the deck with the slender - willowy - female Argon News Speaker. The idiotic fool that had roughly shoved the PVR Star aside in a brash attempt to speak with Garrin or perhaps with the puppet GR was getting bounced around like a Split’s punch bag. As Carl watched Bethany was thrown across the red carpet losing a fist full of luxurious black hair from the top of her head in the process! The scream of agony released at that exact moment was horrendous in its painful pitch, and the following sobs were pitiful to behold, but Alanis didn‘t seem to have any pity for the target of her unreasoning anger whatsoever! Hell, thought Anna, Sha seemed to be smacking the Broadcaster around for real and enjoying it too - what was that about? Nonetheless, Anna still sought to keep Carl out of the drastic situation.
‘Let it go’, said Anna to Carls horror restraining him by the arm, ‘it’s all good for the show! Besides you are supposed to be protecting me’, Anna simpered leaning against the Commander to her own disgust, ‘this could just be a deliberate distraction. Anyway’, she continued feeling a bit dim, ‘look there goes Elaen she will sort this stupidity out! Oops guess that Reaper must be a fan of the vexatious vixen Rav isn’t going to like that. Ah… here comes more guards. Damn down they go… that skull face has a few moves - I wonder who it is? Ah he shouldn’t have turned his back to Elaen she has him now ouch… that had to hurt - I didn‘t think Coppers were supposed to do that sort of thing! Paranidia’s Triple Eyes, look at Sha move’, laughed Anna as the star jumped into the cordoned off section and started flooring all resistance in hot pursuit of the now crawling Media Face, ‘who would have believed that washed up old actress had it in her. I thought all those moves in her action sequences were completely… put on - not so special - special effects! I wonder is she thinking of entering the professional fighting circuit’, mocked Anna laughing.
‘I don’t believe this’ said Carl watching the action while listening to his partners happy commentary, ‘get a grip Anna - this isn’t some jolly PVR! This crowd I don’t like it - didn’t you sense the mood when we came in they seemed fekkin agitated to me! You would almost think… Hell something is going down over there at the other side. Abyss, said Carl, flicking through the secure channels. One of the Marines is down, no make that two! This debacle is turning into a god cursed riot. I knew this crazy ball was a bad idea! Right we need to get you and the VIP’s out. I suggest you make use of that emergency Goner Transport Device if it is still set up’, said the Commander all business, ‘I’m calling in reinforcements before this thing gets totally out of control!’
‘Don’t over react Carl’, said Anna, ‘the bay is crawling with security. Relax and enjoy the parade - you’re not actually officially on duty you know - you’re an RJL guest!’
‘Anna I wouldn’t tell you how to run your office. I’m not joking this isn’t funny. We might have lots of security down here but we are still outnumbered what ten / twenty to one? Look at that mess over there - people are going to get trampled and crushed - even if they don’t all beat each others brains out!’ noted Carl worried, ‘You know I think I might even have them cut the artificial gravity here’, he also considered using El’s white noise sound stunt with the speakers, but they were still bogged down with Tribunal complaints over ear damage from the last time.
Rav saw Sha thunder into the media enclosure, there goes that neighbourhood, he thought. Fek the female had just laid down three guys with little more than three blows - that sort of thing wasn’t in anybodies action script. The Chief was feeling very sorry for the really brutalised Bethany and hoped she managed to get away. Rav wondered what amount of damage would satisfy the mad slut! The stupid Argnu was supposed to - be acting - all insane, but intoxicated not laying about herself for real like some psychotic sadist or a martial arts trained demonic underworld she devil - amateurs! It looked like Elaen was going to be a little hard pressed, suffering from actions well outside the plan, due to this Rav felt a little split in two. Then the riot hit his communication - link. Sonra what have we done? the Chief questioned inwardly.
Rav immediately sent the pre-arranged emergency cut off signal. The team now knew to stop any pretence under the charade, and to get down to the essential business of securing the prime targets. However, Ravn could already tell it wasn’t going to be all that easy or straight forward, everything was already pretty mixed up, and not everyone even in the proximity of the supposedly - mostly - mock battle was playing anymore. Pulling out his computer pad Ravn started punching through camera views of the battling bay. It didn’t look good hostilities were spreading at an alarming rate. Still, the Chief hoped, it should yet be possible to shepherd the VIP’s into the Liner itself - as per the back up scheme. Needing to stay cool and in control Rav sent Josh and his team piling in to help back up (and / or if needed) extract Elaen.
Elsewhere somehow Garrin had managed to get himself into a troublesome knot - well he had sloped off with GR still hovering behind him to get a better view of the hilarious fun. Unluckily a surge by the milling masses breaking through the cordons had cut him off. The press of bodies threatening to crush. To force a bit of space, and later (he had to confess) out of a degree of sheer rising panic - as he laboured for a breath - Garrin had commenced to lash out at those squeezing in around him. GR’s operator sensing the immediate peril had followed suit with a more serious offence of its own - herding the crowd away by the power of the stick.
Luckily before entering the bay GR had made Garrin remove the very sharp - very real - scythe blade from the handle replacing this with a less dangerous if somewhat less intimidating rubbery mock up. Now the puppet fought for space by whacking around itself and G with the scythes handle - occasionally dropping those too slow or stupid to give way. The potent if makeshift weapon hitting out like an oddly shaped quarterstaff. The original frame and build quality of the puppet was engineered surprisingly strong - its parts largely salvaged from old and out of date industrial mechanisms - by its builder. Old Matsumishi couldn’t afford new components or materials and worked extensively with salvage and scrap to make his various fantastic stage creations.
The whole situation once the main peril lessened a tad became both comic and fantastical. GR’s voice box booming out thunderous one liner - jibes and threats with dramatic abandon, somebody was having a field day - between the puppet dishing out rude gestures with one free pneumatic claw, and largely just goading clouts using the weapon clasped firmly in the powerful grip of its left hand.
‘Take that you filthy mortal’, shouted the animated Grim Reaper from the fold of its hood, followed hotly by an evil sounding crunch and scream to the couriers mild alarm, ‘sorry art thou now, yet not half sorry enough!’
Moments later another worrisome crack was followed by a cry of pain and, ‘Thou hast been judged and found wanting cur. I pray this floor forgive your careless trespass!’
Garrin now able to breathe more freely ceased punching and kicked with abandon and concentrated on ascertaining a safe route out. Due to GR’s swift interventions the courier was soon encountering little in the way of stiff or persistent resistance. Having got the hang of balancing the suspensor fields needed to carry GR’s weighty bulk G also found he could actually use these himself for added stability - when pressed in fact he could virtually float along - and was beginning to feel far less threatened. At this point Garrin belatedly remembered that he could also have just Goner Transported himself clean out of the situation. However, since he was now enjoying himself again the courier decided to just go along with the flow.
‘Taste sturdy oak knave‘ continued the rampaging skeleton, ‘blood and souls for the long dark that drowns out your feeble light’, followed by - a final - especially sinister dullish thud and slump!
‘Hey, you evil fekker take it easy GR’, warned Garrin seeing a figure topple out of the corner of his eye, ‘remember that is still a serious bit of wood, you could really do some permanent damage!’
‘Get thee hence or suffer my wrath’, screamed Garrin’s Reaper seeming to ignore G’s warning while showing one potential, but now wisely fleeing combatant a rude bony finger with its right hand, ‘dance upon my digit you cowardly spawn of unworthy note! Flee well - look not behind, or fall and arise not!’
Something - possibly a metallic drinks canister - sailed out from a distance to careen off the back of GR’s head followed by a knot of laughter from a couple of ducking youths.
‘Hah, you moronic fleshy carrion quail before thy judge, I feel not such minor knocks, nor will any cut that parts mere flesh - strike fear - or mark upon these hallowed bones’, said the puppet seeing to wax further lyrical as the wood swished about in an area of now decently empty space, ‘after those felons friend. Run you child of the soil, or suffer my furious scorn you lowly laggards you worm bait - make way for the Reaper you sons of flea bitten mother hounds - there is no teat for your succour here!’
‘This is crazy’ said Garrin now laughing as he propelled himself along in a scythe pole maintained space towards the general direction of Reaper Alpha. Around G the wood was now spinning without opposition like a low tech shield back and forth. Garrin found himself worrying that the puppets hand joint - sturdy though it was - might give under all this strain and launch the wood to strike either himself or some other unfortunate.
‘Onward oh courier…who will dance this merry morning with the Reaper, come, come I bring the gift of rest upon this staff o’ mine - if you would but bend your pretty head and offer up your fragile skull to this timbre’, yelled the puppet with a glowing wink and a hollow laugh.
‘Somebody better be getting all this little gig on camera for posterity or I’m going to be mighty disappointed’, noted G , ‘easy with that wood.’
‘Fear not o’ child of the night for the Reaper is with thee. Once past that pale what hast thou left to fear - lest it be that thee should awaken - and with shock learn death hast claimed thee not!’ laughed GR.
Garrin found himself wrecking his brains - trying to figure out - which idiot member of his crew had jumped in to make with the tongue twisting. They better have good sound quality on the recording too, he thought smirking.
‘Ah our silver chariot awaits. Forward even onto that breach that is filled with yonder walking dead. Oh… how those spirits vex me with their restless wanderings from my dark estate! Hurry make haste we are expected, we arise like a plague hosted upon this unruly sea of souls that have not the will to bar our egress!’ boomed the puppet, ’for we must by our nature float, see how it is - ever thus - how we rise. For ours are the dark spaces that separate the palest of the stars, the gates and the tunnels of holy fire between.’
Jollo sitting in first class - didn’t quite know what to make of all that - but it had wakened him up better than a crate load of coffee. Looking through to the outside via one porthole the AF VP could see that a degree of chaos was still rampant. However, now at least most of the principles on the guest list were sheltering safely in Reaper alpha. The launch had been not surprisingly temporarily delayed. Garrin was perhaps the last mainstay to arrive along with his still very animated shadow. The puppet was - incessantly babbling - for possibly nothing more than its hidden remote operators own bizarre amusement? Outside the bay looked like a battle zone, but with the VIP’s safe in the TP Jollo knew the riot could now be easily ended with sleep gas or several other broad effect possibilities. As the VIP was thinking this an alarm sounded and the artificial gravity in the bay was selectively removed - well that tactic would diffuse the fight too.
Jollo almost wished he could have joined in with the brawl, but he didn’t really feel connected to any of the sides. The viciousness of the Starlet had shocked him. The Actress obviously had some very serious issues to work through, and was no doubt destined for a stay in a clinic of some nature! In a way though - watching the violence especially up so close though violence was something he usually detested - had been quite invigorating. To Jollo's mild shame: taking the VP back to a more raw, idealistic and rash youth. For a time even Jollo had viewed the Universe as black and white. The ArgonForge dignitary realised he hadn’t been involved (up close) to a fracas of the recent incidents nature since his student days. Something about a mob could still be deceptively attractive.
In particular the AF VP remembered one passionate protest outside the Split embassy against the Space Fly Trade that had gotten out of control. The by intention - non violent parade - had ended in a very different brutal confrontation with the AP riot police. As a consequence of that AP riot Jollo had broken his detention cherry - much to his parents continuing frustration - he had been almost another person back then. It made him wonder how much it had really been about the endangered species now, and how much about the rigours and artificial restraints of modern society: The youthful distaste for all rules and regulations. Sometimes it seemed like rebellion was as natural to the Argon spirit as breathing air. It was a pity Sven and Gregor had both missed this lovely educational spectacle! Still maybe they lacked the character to appreciate the bright colours and warning signs such Argon venting painted. No doubt they would just regard such affronts as the plebeians acting up again.
Occasionally it was therapeutic to do a little - relatively harmless violence - even perhaps artistic according to some (?) It didn’t do any good to hold the darkness in too much. Jollo at least understood the need for the release of social pressure (for valves) in places like this. Tomorrow many individuals including those with battle bruises would feel a little better - despite any aches and pains. A few of course would just harbour even deeper resentments but nothing was a perfect solution to every social ill. In the old days psyche testing had been much more thorough in space, but with ever increasing numbers living in the void the old high standards had been relaxed. Jollo suspected Gregor had been pushing the workers too hard and the security recently squeezing them too tight. It didn’t do to remind people too much that they were not as free - to come and go - as they might wish to delude themselves.
Overly lawful society by its too restraining nature created not just the occasional madman but also a lot of internal anger. It was all a question of balance. The VP realised operations like AFC 4 needed some better form of release. The VP feared - the pent up ones - those who didn’t easily express their dissatisfactions so readily (the quiet and seemingly self contained). Argons that kept it all locked up and buried inside were like over pressurised canisters - their frustrations would strain against the invisible and unnatural bounds until: one morning they bought a weapon and butchered their family, or on a station opened an airlock, or aimed their ship and flew straight into the virtually unbreakable superstructure of a jump gate.
Suicides and murders happened in space all too often these cycles. Argon's occasionally needed to go primitive to work through a limited degree of savagery - hopefully before the pressure became so great that hurting themselves or somebody else became an almost inevitable consequence - more contact sports perhaps, thought the VP. It was just a fact of life that too much law always bred rebellion and anarchy.
Outside another series of Marines this time in heavy duty vac suits were emerging to round up the living floating debris. Some would go back to their cubicles and dormitories, others to the infirmary, a few to detention. With luck none would be on route to the real Reapers domain, but that remained to be seen! Jollo wondered who or what exactly had truly been behind this particular affairs timing - beyond the general station conditions. Being naturally suspicious he didn’t believe in too many major happy, or unhappy accidents at least not until they were proven as such. It would be another little puzzle for him to try and figure out if he had the time later, and a reason to believe it mattered.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Fri, 26. Oct 07, 21:57, edited 2 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 68 – Breaking News
Anna dropped into a seat on the Reaper Alpha Jump Liner and took a moment to search out a few reviews on her computer pad. As the RJL Administrator feared from the initial hits she had been upstaged to some extent by her tool Alanis Sha. Nonetheless, it would serve well enough. Anna had to laugh at the already existent entries: it was true what they said, nothing stopped the link, and nothing travelled faster than bad news!
*the Link* REAPING THE WHIIRLWIND - Riotous Party Proves Too Much for the Marines -
*Argon Sun* BRAZEN BOOBY WHO INVITED THIS SHA - Exclusive Images from the Ball That Started It All -
*the Argon Sentinel* ALANIS SHA HIT’S THE NEWS AGAIN - Disgraceful Star Strikes Out to Create Another Media Frenzy -
*Argon Political Cycle* A DARK DAY FOR REAL POLITICS - RJL Stunt Overshadows Serious Issues Surrounding the AFC 4 Treason Trial -
*the Argon Star* CRIMINALLY INSANE - Alanis Sha’s Brutal Rampage Is No Joke Says Bethany! -
*The Planet* ALIEN AGITATORS BEHIND AFC 4 RIOT - We Ask Why The Masks? The Planet Reveals the Truth Behind Another Alien Conspiracy -
*PVR Review* SCARLET STARLET STRIKES BACK (limited edition) [advertisement] See all Alanis Sha’s best bits in this xtra special limited edition download straight to - Your Computer Pad! Not only such PVR classic masterworks as: The Body Snatchers, Space Jockey and The Dreaded Khaak! but also a unique anthology collection of the Scarlet Starlets extracurricular activities in the real world for example this gem from the Grand Opening of the Golden Temple PVR Theatre on Argon Prime Central City Plaza…ohh! That kick just had to hurt! ((Order now and get this spanking calendar free)). [offer available to first million downloads] Get the real thing - remember Link Piracy is a crime -
*the Business Cycle* RJL EVENT - FAILURE TO LAUNCH - OR PUBLICITY COUP - We Ask How Far Is Too Far? -
Alanis despite being under arrest and locked up in a tiny cell - surprisingly on her own - just couldn’t stop smiling on the inside. The PVR actresses jovial mood was the result of the free internal replays provided by memories of this mornings events. Counter to Sha's happy state however a smile never once touched her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes could easily have been mistaken from the outside for angry sparks and fire! Whilst calm and in full control when the sound reached the Actresses ears of somebody moving past in the hall outside Sha let rip: screaming at the top of her lungs, ‘Fek you too you fekkin corporate pimp bas…’
‘That one is a real charmer’ said Constable Bolen to the Commander with a grin as they passed by in the corridor.
‘May I?’ asked Carl, unable to resist claiming the constables computer pad which was already linked into the brigs secure camera network, and the PVR Stars cell in particular, ‘females sometimes I swear they are beyond all reason’, he complained looking to see what this fuss was about.
Alanis was throwing herself at the walls, clawing, ripping, spitting, kicking and punching at the padded door. Across the audio spilled wordless yells of frustration followed by a long loud and filthy tirade of truly ear burning curses - then the dull slapping sounds of more physical tantrums.
‘Ouch’, said Bolen. Still, he thought, kind of gets the pulse racing in a worrisome manner - all that sweaty heaving about - Bolen couldn’t decide if he was getting a little sick in his old age (perhaps from being alone too much) or if it was just a healthy male attitude to the effect of having seen Sha - the infamous - PVR entertainment working out her usual recreations on larger screens? In the end he just shrugged to himself and continued ‘No wonder that one went through a score of husbands!’
‘I heard it was the other way around’, noted Carl feeling some sympathy against his better judgement. Carl had read a few snippets from Sha’s fantastical (data book) biography when it was being passed illegally around the office on chip. Pure curiosity over the interest others had shown. The book was entitled ‘The Darkness’. To say Sha hadn’t had an easy time of it would be an under statement - at one point the then girl had been little more than a slave (bought, sold and passed on from one evil promoter / husband to another!) If the tales had any validity more than one of Alanis Sha’s early controllers had been out and out slaving Pirates!
The sleazier dark side of PVR had long been in bed with criminality. Sha had been lucky to survive long enough to escape into somewhat more legitimate media enterprises and later even more miraculously the relative big time. Few if any girls taken by these monsters survived even their earliest experiences. Just like the poor souls snatched for ransoms or prostitution most perished in unpleasant ways - sometimes actually on camera - given peoples sick appetites for any illegal thrill. In fact if there was truth in the telling Alanis had succeeded in more than one prison break from the clutches of one sinister unlawful custodian to another - playing Pirate against Pirate, Argon against Argon - it was a fascinating and gruesome tale.
Alanis had prevailed by her wits and skills alone also overcoming many later death threats, and murder attempts. The Actress even claimed she had been forced to pay off a particular (unnamed) Pirate Clan with an enormous bribe (a sum that had all but bankrupted her first small production company) this costly undertaking being required just to be finally cut loose from the stretched strings of her so called ex benefactors. Carl at the time had scoffed at these literary sales boosting delusions, but now having met the formidable Alanis in person, and having seen her - in action - found he harboured a few small doubts about his earlier uncertainties. In fact he wondered would it be worth trying to dig out some real names from the dodgy actress although he doubted Alanis would be willing to divulge any significantly useful details.
In the cell Alanis continued her fits until sheer sweat covered physical exhaustion intervened and the PVR favourite collapsed to curl up like a caged wild thing against the quilted protection of one soft wall. Well, thought Alanis, with her hair a wild frenzy of bedraggled tangles and her tight dress wringing in salty perspiration a girl had to keep up the proper appearance!
‘Is she for real?’ asked Bolan.
‘Who knows’, noted Carl, ‘I’m not sure people like Alanis would know - real - if it came stamped with a label in fluorescent ink’, replied Carl, ‘they live in their own private self made universes. Damn sometimes I think everybody on this station is just playing a role in their own inner story!’
In truth he was beginning to feel like an actor himself! Anna’s attitude was getting to him. The Commander was beginning to think that when the kidnapping business, and the Trial was settled, he might try and give Anna a wide berth for a bit. Take that holiday on his own and get his head back together. Carl was increasing concerned at his own reticence his failure to dive in and break up that initial cat fight - despite Anna’s desires and reassurances - he wasn’t sure he liked the effect the former PA was having on him. Even if it slightly amused the Commander to imagine that it felt a bit like falling under a bad influence! Now that was a funny thought, the Commander - prior to the military - had been the type that did the influencing and parents warned against. It was strange how age and a sensible lifestyle could creep up on you. Carl wondered, was some small part of him just trying to recapture a little of his own lost wild youth with the Station Runner?
Anna still had his ship in a diving spin he just didn’t know for sure who the RJL Administrator was, had she changed so much from his inner vision, or was it just the extreme events in which they had become embroiled? Some questions just kept tumbling round and round in that drop. One moment the Commander was convinced he was acting the fool the next sure he was too rigid and expecting too much! Was Anna just more woman that he cared to handle at this more settled point in his life? That latter idea wasn’t new either and also horrified! Was he getting so old in his own head? Plus now he found when he was away from the girl he was constantly worrying about her safety, and trying to make sense of the puzzling kidnappers overall design and that ever lengthening lack of purposeful contact!
Time was marching on and Carl was increasingly baffled, had Emma Dei met with a fatal accident - perhaps trying to escape her captors! What Carl decided he needed was a good distracting bit of normal police work - a nice straight forward fekkin murder investigation a crime without any personal complications. Of course all it would take would be a few words. A simple utterance and the Commander could be free of any added responsibility. Free, single and alone again, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it! Taking a deep breath the Commander tried to let it go! Chances were in a few cycles none of these concerns would matter anymore - everything would straighten out or just lose its added burden of significance! Things in space just happened so quickly. Really in the long term none of these worries would mean anything!
‘Damn I’m tired’, confessed Elaen to Ravn, ‘and hurting all over.’
‘So much for the official holiday and rest period’, returned the RJL Chief with a grin.
‘That Blond Tart can certainly fight’, complained Elaen, ‘she was lucky I had the stick with me’, she continued with a little bravado, ‘I might have been forced to lose my temper and really hurt that overly abundant argnu!’
‘Sure’, returned El’s partner with an insufferable smile, ‘maybe it was you that was lucky to have the electric stick’, he continued to grin then winked. Thinking he would have to keep a copy of that brawl for late night viewing - when he was alone.
‘That too!’, said Elaen stretching and wind milling her arms while making a face, ‘So what happens now? This bucket still launching this cycle or what?’ asked El.
‘A last minute change of plan we have decided to delay the ceremony’, interrupted Anna, ‘by the time the dignitaries have freshened up and changed and the bay is cleaned up the Trial will be almost upon us. All the able and willing media and VIP’s will be off to sit in on that instead.’
‘So when?’ asked Rav.
‘Bright and early tomorrow morning’, said Anna trying to sound chipper.
‘Great!’, said Elaen shaking her head wondering who was going to turn up to that? Then realising their would always be somebody keen to plant their face in front of a lens also Anna obviously didn’t believe in letting a plan go because of a mere riot.
‘So are we on a return trip back to the office for tea and biscuits?’ asked Ravn.
‘I guess so, I want to get out of this cursed costume if nothing else!’ noted the RJL Administrator.
‘OK then I’ll just gather up the lads’, said Rav, ‘One moment though Anna - I think you should throw on a spare RJL ship suit from the locker here, and or a protective vest’, Rav didn’t want her running around that vulnerable without a reason, ‘If I was up to no good this would be a good time to move. Guards often get a little lax following a big blow out like we have just had. Slip a few guys in among the clean up crew or fake marines in the bay and we could be in a world of trouble!’
‘A ship suit why not I’m done with flouncing around in this outfit anyway’, said the Station Runner prancing around with her arms outstretched for a twirl to all the males obviously admiration.
‘What about Garrin?’ asked Elaen thinking he would have loved that free show.
‘Gone already to see the lads running GR at his scout ship’, noted Rav forcing himself to look at El instead of the barely clothed Anna before he suffered a clout!
‘Oh’, noted Elaen feeling just a little odd that G hadn’t said any goodbyes - which was stupid really for so many reasons, ‘no stragglers to worry about then!’
A little later Cole, Pax, Pete, Elaen, Ravn and Anna were making their way across the docking bay in the direction of the nearest transit module station. Anna was kept tightly in the middle. Pete was on point Cole on the left Pax on the right with Elaen and Ravn bringing up the rear. Ravn and the lads all had hands near weapons and seemed exceptionally itchy. Anna wasn’t sure at first how seriously to take this tactical progression. Rav seemed on edge and the Chiefs boys perhaps attuned to the mood of their commanders had quickly - automatically - picked up on his unvoiced concerns. Were they all just strung out from last night and this morning? Maybe, Anna wondered, she was witnessing something else - a warrior instinct - she found herself eyeing the various people they passed with increasing suspicion and worry: focusing on any sudden action: their tools, hand movements, and so on. Oddly Anna was feeling less and less secure at being surrounded by all these bodyguards.
Ravn was watching everywhere at once - he had a bad feeling - no doubt emphasised by the imminent Trial. It was as if he could hear the clock loudly ticking down its last few stops. This his instincts screamed at him was a moment when - he - might strike had he been the kidnapper. Due to this fear the Chief was hoping this show of brute force might deter any for example: attempted covert snatch operation on route to the office. Rav however was giving up on all his easy assumptions in favour of a healthy degree of questioning self doubt! The Chief found himself feeling that deadly tooth with his tongue - please anything but that!
‘Hurry it up’, Rav demanded he couldn’t wait to clear the open bay there were just far too many high vantage points from the upper level viewing decks etc. Rav found himself wondering who apart from other security men had retained the sense to watch the parade and riot from up there like Gods on Mt. Olympus! Of course you would need a good pair of viewers. Now these areas just felt like dangerous potential sites for unfriendly snipers. Rav could just about make out the shadows of faces looking down from some of those platforms it made his back itch uncomfortably. A mental image formed of crosshairs playing across his own skull - it was many soldiers ultimate terror that one - the unseen shot against which their was no defence!
When they made it to the bay door Rav gave off a massive inner sigh of relief and shifted around to the lead pulling out his gun - just in case. ‘I’m claiming point’, he said timing was everything now if their progress was for example being monitored. Rav trotted ahead some distance then yelled back, ‘Right Anna I know you can keep up, lets double time it to the transport module the exercise will do us all some good. Run you sons of sluts run!’
Run they all did, pelting down the odd pre arranged non direct route. The race didn’t take long and left Anna feeling both mildly exhilarated (ready for further action) and even more tense. Ravn went ahead to check out the small station platform itself. Beyond a couple of surprised civilians who he spot checked at gunpoint everything seemed clean and clear. When the last minute pre booked - boxy looking - module arrived right on schedule Anna and her team of edgy protectors piled in with a degree of gratitude. Maybe everything was going to be Ok after all!
Sven waited impatiently for his computer pad to decode the specifically unique and tailored incoming inter-link transmission. So Anna had left the Liner good. With a tight group of bodyguards not so good, but if shouldn‘t be too much trouble. Sven doubted they would dare to resist an official party of fully kitted Marines. Now he just had to wait for the news to break.
Carl was still at the Dungeon as the Brig was sometimes nicknamed when the call came through. Commander I think you will want to see this said the sergeant and Carls pad lit up with that remarkable mind blowing transmission. Carl couldn’t believe what he was seeing and struggled to make sense of the full likely consequences.
‘Hold the channel open I need to make another link’, said Carl speed linking into Anna, ‘Its Carl Anna, where are you!’
‘On a Transit Mod-’, the link cut out, ‘Anna, Anna’, Carl tried a recall no answer, ‘Fek!’
A Transit Module probably heading back to her home or the main RJL office. Carl pulled out his special Security Cleared Computer Pad and did a trace on Anna’s Link it was on a Module alright heading for the Harbour Tower East’s Stop. Carl linked into the Modules camera and picked up audio and visual.
‘Sorry Anna’, said Ravn clutching her link, ‘it would be best not to give out information on non secure channels. Anna was surrounded by RJL guards Elaen was present too - that might be handy!’
‘That’s it’, said Carl, ‘I want a Tactical Strike Team of officers prepped and at the Harbour Tower East as soon as possible - use the emergency Goner Transport System if you must - they had better be there when I arrive. I’m going for a fast transit security module right now’, finished the Commander dialling in the request. What the hell did it all mean?
‘Yes Sir’, came a crisp reply.
Fay was no fool and had seen the inevitable riot coming - in fact given her manpower and speed of communications the Commander in Chief of the Legion of the Damned had been graced with even enough time to have perhaps fully suppressed the riots spread altogether. Fay however had done - nothing - simply watched her bank of screens and let it ride to its anarchic conclusion only intervening belatedly just enough to ensure - a degree - of safety for her soldiers as the situation had required. In fact Fay had even ensured that other on station reinforcements had been slightly delayed via skilfully causing blocks at certain prime route ways. Anna needed to be taught the limits of her inner vision, and the consequences of going it too alone!
The Commander in Chief had also hoped - at the last moment - that this further period of confusion might convince Sven’s operatives to make an open move one Fay might be able to counter and exploit. Of course the Oracle had done - nothing too - much to Fays growing exasperation! What was he waiting for? Fay was firmly convinced that while Sven’s target was Anna and the Hive his timing was linked deliberately in some manner to the Treason Trial and his lever was Emma Dei. Some operational advantage of the event played into his hands - so why was there still no proper contact between him and the fulcrum of Anna this late in the game? The Trial would be a short affair Rud wasn’t even contesting his guilt.
Well the next key event was the beginning of the Trial itself in a few very short station cycle segments. Fay made a vital decision after the long night and stress filled morning the Commander in Chief was done with this hidden game (that no longer seemed to be playing out to her benefit) frankly Fay was done with waiting, and with just reacting! Despite the risks she was going to move a little more openly. The riot had given her all the excuse she needed. Touching her ear piece Fay simply said, ‘Tell Siidan and his team they have a go!’
In a typical foul up of on the ground operational communications satellite link ups word reached Sven after, not before the Commander of the vital news cast. Although the Admiral was not immediately aware of this important singular fact until even further down the line. Sven’s own on the ground deep operatives signal when it did hit arrived post the first media outpourings not during! Linking over to the casts themselves the Admiral realised the central delay, but had to admit that it truly was almost providential, prudent and for the best - lest his own over enthusiasm - blow his normally calm demeanour along with his direct involvement. In fact Sven forced himself to slowly carefully pour himself a tall one with plenty of soda and ice which he stirred gently then took several slow sips of before linking into his Marines and demanding Anna Dei be taken into immediate custody as a potential threat to Federal Argon security!
Meanwhile out in the wider depths of the sector grid of Elena's Fortune an odd anomaly commenced to catch the attention of both some of the Lost for Words scout patrols and members of that Carriers Bridge Crew. It was a crazy Gravidar Scanner blip hurtling across their screens towards them at a furious - frankly - ridiculous rate.
‘What the hell is that?’ questioned the most senior officer on the bridge one Captain Evans.
‘I don’t know it has to be a glitch Sir’, came the reply from targeting, ‘wait I’m getting… an IFF hah… its reading as a small transport Sir’, laughed the crewman.
‘Run a diagnos-’, started the bridge officer.
Evans was interrupted by a ghastly simulated shriek of noise the Captain would never forget. The ear piercing zooming swishing thunder that blared out from the sensor speakers to penetrate the Bridges Crews ears caused several to involuntarily physically duck. The horrible sound was an indication of a remarkably fast - near - but very lucky miss, followed by an even more horrendous blare of white noise and a massive nova like flare from a not so lucky nearby strike. Light washed over the screens blanking them for a nano-segment. The blast had come from the direction of the previously serene AFC 4.
‘Holy Sonra what the fek was that!’, On Immediate action replay something appeared to have hit the complex smearing across its shields then shattering them to power on through like a molten torch of metallic sun fire. In terror the Captain watched the furious material and energy impact - blast away - one of the stations entire features a whole tower like structure utterly vaporised before his eyes as if it had never existed - nothing was left but splinters and sparkling space dust. This would have been bad enough but an insane ripple of shockwaves followed outward from this injurious impact shaking through the massive structures skin which flexed and buckled in ways never intended, splitting in places to vent atmospheric and possibly other gases. A few areas snapped clean apart or broke loose crates tumbled away from a halted but exposed conveyor belt.
Atrociously the main forge was - according to one enhanced digital reading - fractionally in motion pushed both away, and into a slow rotation by the power of the strike, ‘by all the dark gods of the abyss, Battle Stations’, yelled the Captain as a warning siren blared out three notes repeated three times and stark red lights came on, ‘helm hard astern make a safe distance. Targeting do we have any more hostiles on the Gravidar? Speak to me what by a starry hell is going on out there?’
Anna and her associates where still in the transit module when the Small Transport High Velocity Missile aimed by the crazy Lone Wolf Ishchi Hit the anvil of the forge like the hammer of some ancient Earth Norse God. The noise of the impact and the vibration of sound from the ensuing shock wave that was translated through the buckling super structure was something no one was ever really able to fully describe later - except to say it was felt in the bone as much as heard with the ear - what every Argon did agree on was that it was a truly horrific noise: that if a nightmare could be formed of pure sound alone without even a shade of vision that this would be the timbre of that terror!
The Module itself like a pea in a shaken can juddered off its proper glide path and rolled around the tube striking various minor obstructions while streaking on until its own automatic stabilisers and emergency thrust breaks kicked in. Internal anti gravity system dampening protection fields sprang into force to cushion the passengers. Nonetheless, until the halt the transport slid along the shaft from side to side firing out a cascading trail of sparks into an otherwise dark space. The Module was trailing fire like some primitive gun powder rocket rattling up a wide pipe. Everybody inside though was only gently bouncing into each other or drifting apart. Others such as Elaen and Ravn wisely slowly reached out to hold together attaining some additional stability while floating around in the suddenly very jelled air. When the vehicle settled the safety systems slowly ebbed away depositing the passengers like slow falling snow flakes to the ground in a gentle heap. The new floor as the anti gravity registered its disorientation had settled on the local station plane based on the orientation outside. As a result the floor was now the tipped vehicles left side. In the darkness emergency red lighting blossomed forth like a wash of ominous blood.
‘Fek what the Fek was that?’
‘Get that fekkin holster out of my ear.’
‘Hey careful were your putting your hands mister!’
‘Sorry!’
‘Fek, was that a bomb?’
‘Anything on the Link?’
‘Stop sitting on my arm and I’ll let you know?’
‘Sorry!’
‘Paranidia quiet, do you feel that vibration’, said Ravn as everything briefly shook.
‘That’s it’, said Pete, ‘were good and fekked now, we're all going to die!’
‘Oh shut up!’, came two immediate replies.
Pete burst out laughing, ‘Sorry just couldn’t resist the moment of drama!’
‘Grunt humour’ said Elaen like a curse.
‘Can I have my link back?’ asked Anna.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 68 – Breaking News
Anna dropped into a seat on the Reaper Alpha Jump Liner and took a moment to search out a few reviews on her computer pad. As the RJL Administrator feared from the initial hits she had been upstaged to some extent by her tool Alanis Sha. Nonetheless, it would serve well enough. Anna had to laugh at the already existent entries: it was true what they said, nothing stopped the link, and nothing travelled faster than bad news!
*the Link* REAPING THE WHIIRLWIND - Riotous Party Proves Too Much for the Marines -
*Argon Sun* BRAZEN BOOBY WHO INVITED THIS SHA - Exclusive Images from the Ball That Started It All -
*the Argon Sentinel* ALANIS SHA HIT’S THE NEWS AGAIN - Disgraceful Star Strikes Out to Create Another Media Frenzy -
*Argon Political Cycle* A DARK DAY FOR REAL POLITICS - RJL Stunt Overshadows Serious Issues Surrounding the AFC 4 Treason Trial -
*the Argon Star* CRIMINALLY INSANE - Alanis Sha’s Brutal Rampage Is No Joke Says Bethany! -
*The Planet* ALIEN AGITATORS BEHIND AFC 4 RIOT - We Ask Why The Masks? The Planet Reveals the Truth Behind Another Alien Conspiracy -
*PVR Review* SCARLET STARLET STRIKES BACK (limited edition) [advertisement] See all Alanis Sha’s best bits in this xtra special limited edition download straight to - Your Computer Pad! Not only such PVR classic masterworks as: The Body Snatchers, Space Jockey and The Dreaded Khaak! but also a unique anthology collection of the Scarlet Starlets extracurricular activities in the real world for example this gem from the Grand Opening of the Golden Temple PVR Theatre on Argon Prime Central City Plaza…ohh! That kick just had to hurt! ((Order now and get this spanking calendar free)). [offer available to first million downloads] Get the real thing - remember Link Piracy is a crime -
*the Business Cycle* RJL EVENT - FAILURE TO LAUNCH - OR PUBLICITY COUP - We Ask How Far Is Too Far? -
Alanis despite being under arrest and locked up in a tiny cell - surprisingly on her own - just couldn’t stop smiling on the inside. The PVR actresses jovial mood was the result of the free internal replays provided by memories of this mornings events. Counter to Sha's happy state however a smile never once touched her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes could easily have been mistaken from the outside for angry sparks and fire! Whilst calm and in full control when the sound reached the Actresses ears of somebody moving past in the hall outside Sha let rip: screaming at the top of her lungs, ‘Fek you too you fekkin corporate pimp bas…’
‘That one is a real charmer’ said Constable Bolen to the Commander with a grin as they passed by in the corridor.
‘May I?’ asked Carl, unable to resist claiming the constables computer pad which was already linked into the brigs secure camera network, and the PVR Stars cell in particular, ‘females sometimes I swear they are beyond all reason’, he complained looking to see what this fuss was about.
Alanis was throwing herself at the walls, clawing, ripping, spitting, kicking and punching at the padded door. Across the audio spilled wordless yells of frustration followed by a long loud and filthy tirade of truly ear burning curses - then the dull slapping sounds of more physical tantrums.
‘Ouch’, said Bolen. Still, he thought, kind of gets the pulse racing in a worrisome manner - all that sweaty heaving about - Bolen couldn’t decide if he was getting a little sick in his old age (perhaps from being alone too much) or if it was just a healthy male attitude to the effect of having seen Sha - the infamous - PVR entertainment working out her usual recreations on larger screens? In the end he just shrugged to himself and continued ‘No wonder that one went through a score of husbands!’
‘I heard it was the other way around’, noted Carl feeling some sympathy against his better judgement. Carl had read a few snippets from Sha’s fantastical (data book) biography when it was being passed illegally around the office on chip. Pure curiosity over the interest others had shown. The book was entitled ‘The Darkness’. To say Sha hadn’t had an easy time of it would be an under statement - at one point the then girl had been little more than a slave (bought, sold and passed on from one evil promoter / husband to another!) If the tales had any validity more than one of Alanis Sha’s early controllers had been out and out slaving Pirates!
The sleazier dark side of PVR had long been in bed with criminality. Sha had been lucky to survive long enough to escape into somewhat more legitimate media enterprises and later even more miraculously the relative big time. Few if any girls taken by these monsters survived even their earliest experiences. Just like the poor souls snatched for ransoms or prostitution most perished in unpleasant ways - sometimes actually on camera - given peoples sick appetites for any illegal thrill. In fact if there was truth in the telling Alanis had succeeded in more than one prison break from the clutches of one sinister unlawful custodian to another - playing Pirate against Pirate, Argon against Argon - it was a fascinating and gruesome tale.
Alanis had prevailed by her wits and skills alone also overcoming many later death threats, and murder attempts. The Actress even claimed she had been forced to pay off a particular (unnamed) Pirate Clan with an enormous bribe (a sum that had all but bankrupted her first small production company) this costly undertaking being required just to be finally cut loose from the stretched strings of her so called ex benefactors. Carl at the time had scoffed at these literary sales boosting delusions, but now having met the formidable Alanis in person, and having seen her - in action - found he harboured a few small doubts about his earlier uncertainties. In fact he wondered would it be worth trying to dig out some real names from the dodgy actress although he doubted Alanis would be willing to divulge any significantly useful details.
In the cell Alanis continued her fits until sheer sweat covered physical exhaustion intervened and the PVR favourite collapsed to curl up like a caged wild thing against the quilted protection of one soft wall. Well, thought Alanis, with her hair a wild frenzy of bedraggled tangles and her tight dress wringing in salty perspiration a girl had to keep up the proper appearance!
‘Is she for real?’ asked Bolan.
‘Who knows’, noted Carl, ‘I’m not sure people like Alanis would know - real - if it came stamped with a label in fluorescent ink’, replied Carl, ‘they live in their own private self made universes. Damn sometimes I think everybody on this station is just playing a role in their own inner story!’
In truth he was beginning to feel like an actor himself! Anna’s attitude was getting to him. The Commander was beginning to think that when the kidnapping business, and the Trial was settled, he might try and give Anna a wide berth for a bit. Take that holiday on his own and get his head back together. Carl was increasing concerned at his own reticence his failure to dive in and break up that initial cat fight - despite Anna’s desires and reassurances - he wasn’t sure he liked the effect the former PA was having on him. Even if it slightly amused the Commander to imagine that it felt a bit like falling under a bad influence! Now that was a funny thought, the Commander - prior to the military - had been the type that did the influencing and parents warned against. It was strange how age and a sensible lifestyle could creep up on you. Carl wondered, was some small part of him just trying to recapture a little of his own lost wild youth with the Station Runner?
Anna still had his ship in a diving spin he just didn’t know for sure who the RJL Administrator was, had she changed so much from his inner vision, or was it just the extreme events in which they had become embroiled? Some questions just kept tumbling round and round in that drop. One moment the Commander was convinced he was acting the fool the next sure he was too rigid and expecting too much! Was Anna just more woman that he cared to handle at this more settled point in his life? That latter idea wasn’t new either and also horrified! Was he getting so old in his own head? Plus now he found when he was away from the girl he was constantly worrying about her safety, and trying to make sense of the puzzling kidnappers overall design and that ever lengthening lack of purposeful contact!
Time was marching on and Carl was increasingly baffled, had Emma Dei met with a fatal accident - perhaps trying to escape her captors! What Carl decided he needed was a good distracting bit of normal police work - a nice straight forward fekkin murder investigation a crime without any personal complications. Of course all it would take would be a few words. A simple utterance and the Commander could be free of any added responsibility. Free, single and alone again, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it! Taking a deep breath the Commander tried to let it go! Chances were in a few cycles none of these concerns would matter anymore - everything would straighten out or just lose its added burden of significance! Things in space just happened so quickly. Really in the long term none of these worries would mean anything!
‘Damn I’m tired’, confessed Elaen to Ravn, ‘and hurting all over.’
‘So much for the official holiday and rest period’, returned the RJL Chief with a grin.
‘That Blond Tart can certainly fight’, complained Elaen, ‘she was lucky I had the stick with me’, she continued with a little bravado, ‘I might have been forced to lose my temper and really hurt that overly abundant argnu!’
‘Sure’, returned El’s partner with an insufferable smile, ‘maybe it was you that was lucky to have the electric stick’, he continued to grin then winked. Thinking he would have to keep a copy of that brawl for late night viewing - when he was alone.
‘That too!’, said Elaen stretching and wind milling her arms while making a face, ‘So what happens now? This bucket still launching this cycle or what?’ asked El.
‘A last minute change of plan we have decided to delay the ceremony’, interrupted Anna, ‘by the time the dignitaries have freshened up and changed and the bay is cleaned up the Trial will be almost upon us. All the able and willing media and VIP’s will be off to sit in on that instead.’
‘So when?’ asked Rav.
‘Bright and early tomorrow morning’, said Anna trying to sound chipper.
‘Great!’, said Elaen shaking her head wondering who was going to turn up to that? Then realising their would always be somebody keen to plant their face in front of a lens also Anna obviously didn’t believe in letting a plan go because of a mere riot.
‘So are we on a return trip back to the office for tea and biscuits?’ asked Ravn.
‘I guess so, I want to get out of this cursed costume if nothing else!’ noted the RJL Administrator.
‘OK then I’ll just gather up the lads’, said Rav, ‘One moment though Anna - I think you should throw on a spare RJL ship suit from the locker here, and or a protective vest’, Rav didn’t want her running around that vulnerable without a reason, ‘If I was up to no good this would be a good time to move. Guards often get a little lax following a big blow out like we have just had. Slip a few guys in among the clean up crew or fake marines in the bay and we could be in a world of trouble!’
‘A ship suit why not I’m done with flouncing around in this outfit anyway’, said the Station Runner prancing around with her arms outstretched for a twirl to all the males obviously admiration.
‘What about Garrin?’ asked Elaen thinking he would have loved that free show.
‘Gone already to see the lads running GR at his scout ship’, noted Rav forcing himself to look at El instead of the barely clothed Anna before he suffered a clout!
‘Oh’, noted Elaen feeling just a little odd that G hadn’t said any goodbyes - which was stupid really for so many reasons, ‘no stragglers to worry about then!’
A little later Cole, Pax, Pete, Elaen, Ravn and Anna were making their way across the docking bay in the direction of the nearest transit module station. Anna was kept tightly in the middle. Pete was on point Cole on the left Pax on the right with Elaen and Ravn bringing up the rear. Ravn and the lads all had hands near weapons and seemed exceptionally itchy. Anna wasn’t sure at first how seriously to take this tactical progression. Rav seemed on edge and the Chiefs boys perhaps attuned to the mood of their commanders had quickly - automatically - picked up on his unvoiced concerns. Were they all just strung out from last night and this morning? Maybe, Anna wondered, she was witnessing something else - a warrior instinct - she found herself eyeing the various people they passed with increasing suspicion and worry: focusing on any sudden action: their tools, hand movements, and so on. Oddly Anna was feeling less and less secure at being surrounded by all these bodyguards.
Ravn was watching everywhere at once - he had a bad feeling - no doubt emphasised by the imminent Trial. It was as if he could hear the clock loudly ticking down its last few stops. This his instincts screamed at him was a moment when - he - might strike had he been the kidnapper. Due to this fear the Chief was hoping this show of brute force might deter any for example: attempted covert snatch operation on route to the office. Rav however was giving up on all his easy assumptions in favour of a healthy degree of questioning self doubt! The Chief found himself feeling that deadly tooth with his tongue - please anything but that!
‘Hurry it up’, Rav demanded he couldn’t wait to clear the open bay there were just far too many high vantage points from the upper level viewing decks etc. Rav found himself wondering who apart from other security men had retained the sense to watch the parade and riot from up there like Gods on Mt. Olympus! Of course you would need a good pair of viewers. Now these areas just felt like dangerous potential sites for unfriendly snipers. Rav could just about make out the shadows of faces looking down from some of those platforms it made his back itch uncomfortably. A mental image formed of crosshairs playing across his own skull - it was many soldiers ultimate terror that one - the unseen shot against which their was no defence!
When they made it to the bay door Rav gave off a massive inner sigh of relief and shifted around to the lead pulling out his gun - just in case. ‘I’m claiming point’, he said timing was everything now if their progress was for example being monitored. Rav trotted ahead some distance then yelled back, ‘Right Anna I know you can keep up, lets double time it to the transport module the exercise will do us all some good. Run you sons of sluts run!’
Run they all did, pelting down the odd pre arranged non direct route. The race didn’t take long and left Anna feeling both mildly exhilarated (ready for further action) and even more tense. Ravn went ahead to check out the small station platform itself. Beyond a couple of surprised civilians who he spot checked at gunpoint everything seemed clean and clear. When the last minute pre booked - boxy looking - module arrived right on schedule Anna and her team of edgy protectors piled in with a degree of gratitude. Maybe everything was going to be Ok after all!
Sven waited impatiently for his computer pad to decode the specifically unique and tailored incoming inter-link transmission. So Anna had left the Liner good. With a tight group of bodyguards not so good, but if shouldn‘t be too much trouble. Sven doubted they would dare to resist an official party of fully kitted Marines. Now he just had to wait for the news to break.
Carl was still at the Dungeon as the Brig was sometimes nicknamed when the call came through. Commander I think you will want to see this said the sergeant and Carls pad lit up with that remarkable mind blowing transmission. Carl couldn’t believe what he was seeing and struggled to make sense of the full likely consequences.
‘Hold the channel open I need to make another link’, said Carl speed linking into Anna, ‘Its Carl Anna, where are you!’
‘On a Transit Mod-’, the link cut out, ‘Anna, Anna’, Carl tried a recall no answer, ‘Fek!’
A Transit Module probably heading back to her home or the main RJL office. Carl pulled out his special Security Cleared Computer Pad and did a trace on Anna’s Link it was on a Module alright heading for the Harbour Tower East’s Stop. Carl linked into the Modules camera and picked up audio and visual.
‘Sorry Anna’, said Ravn clutching her link, ‘it would be best not to give out information on non secure channels. Anna was surrounded by RJL guards Elaen was present too - that might be handy!’
‘That’s it’, said Carl, ‘I want a Tactical Strike Team of officers prepped and at the Harbour Tower East as soon as possible - use the emergency Goner Transport System if you must - they had better be there when I arrive. I’m going for a fast transit security module right now’, finished the Commander dialling in the request. What the hell did it all mean?
‘Yes Sir’, came a crisp reply.
Fay was no fool and had seen the inevitable riot coming - in fact given her manpower and speed of communications the Commander in Chief of the Legion of the Damned had been graced with even enough time to have perhaps fully suppressed the riots spread altogether. Fay however had done - nothing - simply watched her bank of screens and let it ride to its anarchic conclusion only intervening belatedly just enough to ensure - a degree - of safety for her soldiers as the situation had required. In fact Fay had even ensured that other on station reinforcements had been slightly delayed via skilfully causing blocks at certain prime route ways. Anna needed to be taught the limits of her inner vision, and the consequences of going it too alone!
The Commander in Chief had also hoped - at the last moment - that this further period of confusion might convince Sven’s operatives to make an open move one Fay might be able to counter and exploit. Of course the Oracle had done - nothing too - much to Fays growing exasperation! What was he waiting for? Fay was firmly convinced that while Sven’s target was Anna and the Hive his timing was linked deliberately in some manner to the Treason Trial and his lever was Emma Dei. Some operational advantage of the event played into his hands - so why was there still no proper contact between him and the fulcrum of Anna this late in the game? The Trial would be a short affair Rud wasn’t even contesting his guilt.
Well the next key event was the beginning of the Trial itself in a few very short station cycle segments. Fay made a vital decision after the long night and stress filled morning the Commander in Chief was done with this hidden game (that no longer seemed to be playing out to her benefit) frankly Fay was done with waiting, and with just reacting! Despite the risks she was going to move a little more openly. The riot had given her all the excuse she needed. Touching her ear piece Fay simply said, ‘Tell Siidan and his team they have a go!’
In a typical foul up of on the ground operational communications satellite link ups word reached Sven after, not before the Commander of the vital news cast. Although the Admiral was not immediately aware of this important singular fact until even further down the line. Sven’s own on the ground deep operatives signal when it did hit arrived post the first media outpourings not during! Linking over to the casts themselves the Admiral realised the central delay, but had to admit that it truly was almost providential, prudent and for the best - lest his own over enthusiasm - blow his normally calm demeanour along with his direct involvement. In fact Sven forced himself to slowly carefully pour himself a tall one with plenty of soda and ice which he stirred gently then took several slow sips of before linking into his Marines and demanding Anna Dei be taken into immediate custody as a potential threat to Federal Argon security!
Meanwhile out in the wider depths of the sector grid of Elena's Fortune an odd anomaly commenced to catch the attention of both some of the Lost for Words scout patrols and members of that Carriers Bridge Crew. It was a crazy Gravidar Scanner blip hurtling across their screens towards them at a furious - frankly - ridiculous rate.
‘What the hell is that?’ questioned the most senior officer on the bridge one Captain Evans.
‘I don’t know it has to be a glitch Sir’, came the reply from targeting, ‘wait I’m getting… an IFF hah… its reading as a small transport Sir’, laughed the crewman.
‘Run a diagnos-’, started the bridge officer.
Evans was interrupted by a ghastly simulated shriek of noise the Captain would never forget. The ear piercing zooming swishing thunder that blared out from the sensor speakers to penetrate the Bridges Crews ears caused several to involuntarily physically duck. The horrible sound was an indication of a remarkably fast - near - but very lucky miss, followed by an even more horrendous blare of white noise and a massive nova like flare from a not so lucky nearby strike. Light washed over the screens blanking them for a nano-segment. The blast had come from the direction of the previously serene AFC 4.
‘Holy Sonra what the fek was that!’, On Immediate action replay something appeared to have hit the complex smearing across its shields then shattering them to power on through like a molten torch of metallic sun fire. In terror the Captain watched the furious material and energy impact - blast away - one of the stations entire features a whole tower like structure utterly vaporised before his eyes as if it had never existed - nothing was left but splinters and sparkling space dust. This would have been bad enough but an insane ripple of shockwaves followed outward from this injurious impact shaking through the massive structures skin which flexed and buckled in ways never intended, splitting in places to vent atmospheric and possibly other gases. A few areas snapped clean apart or broke loose crates tumbled away from a halted but exposed conveyor belt.
Atrociously the main forge was - according to one enhanced digital reading - fractionally in motion pushed both away, and into a slow rotation by the power of the strike, ‘by all the dark gods of the abyss, Battle Stations’, yelled the Captain as a warning siren blared out three notes repeated three times and stark red lights came on, ‘helm hard astern make a safe distance. Targeting do we have any more hostiles on the Gravidar? Speak to me what by a starry hell is going on out there?’
Anna and her associates where still in the transit module when the Small Transport High Velocity Missile aimed by the crazy Lone Wolf Ishchi Hit the anvil of the forge like the hammer of some ancient Earth Norse God. The noise of the impact and the vibration of sound from the ensuing shock wave that was translated through the buckling super structure was something no one was ever really able to fully describe later - except to say it was felt in the bone as much as heard with the ear - what every Argon did agree on was that it was a truly horrific noise: that if a nightmare could be formed of pure sound alone without even a shade of vision that this would be the timbre of that terror!
The Module itself like a pea in a shaken can juddered off its proper glide path and rolled around the tube striking various minor obstructions while streaking on until its own automatic stabilisers and emergency thrust breaks kicked in. Internal anti gravity system dampening protection fields sprang into force to cushion the passengers. Nonetheless, until the halt the transport slid along the shaft from side to side firing out a cascading trail of sparks into an otherwise dark space. The Module was trailing fire like some primitive gun powder rocket rattling up a wide pipe. Everybody inside though was only gently bouncing into each other or drifting apart. Others such as Elaen and Ravn wisely slowly reached out to hold together attaining some additional stability while floating around in the suddenly very jelled air. When the vehicle settled the safety systems slowly ebbed away depositing the passengers like slow falling snow flakes to the ground in a gentle heap. The new floor as the anti gravity registered its disorientation had settled on the local station plane based on the orientation outside. As a result the floor was now the tipped vehicles left side. In the darkness emergency red lighting blossomed forth like a wash of ominous blood.
‘Fek what the Fek was that?’
‘Get that fekkin holster out of my ear.’
‘Hey careful were your putting your hands mister!’
‘Sorry!’
‘Fek, was that a bomb?’
‘Anything on the Link?’
‘Stop sitting on my arm and I’ll let you know?’
‘Sorry!’
‘Paranidia quiet, do you feel that vibration’, said Ravn as everything briefly shook.
‘That’s it’, said Pete, ‘were good and fekked now, we're all going to die!’
‘Oh shut up!’, came two immediate replies.
Pete burst out laughing, ‘Sorry just couldn’t resist the moment of drama!’
‘Grunt humour’ said Elaen like a curse.
‘Can I have my link back?’ asked Anna.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Sun, 21. Oct 07, 21:06, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
- Posts: 4643
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 69 – Collateral Damage
In later times AFC 4 ‘Hells Hammer’ survivors when they congregated often asked each other the same question - where were you when the Forge was struck? The answers were often mundane, a few dramatic, a couple surprising, some given the Argon races steadfast resilient nature would later be painted darkly comic! No one however would ever answer this query with the phase ‘The Harbour Tower West’ - because anyone in that particular location lost any ability to relate any further experiences whatsoever - HTW the site of impact (ground zero if you like) was a total wipe out, obliterated in one far too casual if furious instant of molten destruction. An event frequently played and replayed in the media in extreme slow motion.
Harbour Tower West prior to being ghosted in this spectacular manner had been in construction and content the Twin to Harbour Tower East for example: HTW contained some small independent office spaces, non AF business worker accommodation, and small freelance high tech manufacturing units. Most tragically though it was the home to the well known operation called SpaceGear - a vacuum suit maintenance and repair facility - that operated under licence from ArgonForge. SpaceGear handled (officially) around fifteen percent of the stations AF suit upkeep business - plus a whooping seventy five percent - of on station independent suit work for non AFC 4 clients.
Unfortunately suit maintenance was an employee heavy business - most Argons just didn’t like this sort of vital safety work being undertaken by machines - and who could blame them! Suit care by spacers was often undertaken with a degree of distinctly positive paranoia - most old timers frequently insisting on doing their own suit maintenance - or at least embarrassingly detailed double checks upon any recently returned item. SpaceGear as an operator in this unique field ran on its reputation more than most, and had good reasons for being well respected - having had an almost perfect safety record from its advent (in fact the company was so adept that it was often preferred by some members of AFC 4’s senior staff). Even Administrator Gregor had his two favourite vacuum suits checked regularly by SpaceGear (discreetly of course out of his own pocket) although he made a big show of getting the others (that he never actually used if he could help it) looked after in house by AF!
Due to the Lone Wolfs Hammer - SpaceGear and HTW were fated to become indelibly entwined in infamy. Being independent of AF the small company had declined to honour the AF official Treason Trial Holiday (people still needed their suits and SG simply couldn‘t halt or delay its ongoing vital enterprise without creating a grievous backlog) every one of its eighty three members of staff were therefore productively working away when they were erased from existence. With most of these unfortunates also departed the bulk of their families husbands of wives, wives of husbands and most shockingly of all the children. The younger generation - were sadly on holiday from their on station education - and predestined to become the most innocent of victims, perishing just because they were in HTW worker accommodations! All in all when tallied by cold statistical calculation two hundred and seventy eight souls perished in the Harbour Tower West of these a dire one hundred and ninety four had direct links to SpaceGear! It was the biggest single direct consequence of the Hammers fell stroke, but far from the only one to be felt that cycle or even much, much later.
Following the calamity the CAO was briefly plunged into darkness. Heavy anti blast bulkhead doors slammed down with a chilling finality. Emergency lighting blossomed while vacuum suits storage lockers hissed and shot open. Washed in the blood glow after regaining her unsteady balance the first thing the young female Junior Helmsmen Ghia noticed was just how wide the eyes of her immediate colleague at the Central Control Console were. It was not comforting the way the whites of Dan’s crazed orbs glowed down upon her like twin sinister baleful rings tainted as they were by the pessimistic crimson slaughterhouse glow!
Meanwhile the designated Safety Officer Ross O’lerin slipped into a vacuum suit with the help of the AF Police Constable Patricia for whom he immediately returned the favour. Then together they began distributing this survival gear to the rest starting with their new commander Ghia!
‘Fek’, cursed Ghia struggling into the unit with Ross’s help while looking at the immobile obstruction of the computer sealed emergency bulkhead door. The Senior Duty Officer Reggie the Stations designated Helmsman had insisted on going to the outer Executive Washroom because he had managed to acquire Gregor’s cursed key and the fool was now effectively locked out of the sealed AFC 4 Central Administration Office Bridge!
Getting a one handed grip to steady herself against the tall control console known as the Station Helm from the shaking vibrations Ghia clumsily slapped on her helmet with the other keeping her visor open and staying off tank. While doing the latter action Ghia found herself not very coolly considered the effect of the loss of her superior on the legitimate ArgonForge Complex Four CAO Bridge chain of command. When the dire fact hit home the Junior Officer and young Manger visibly blanched. Desperately she attempted to reactivate her very dead virtual controls. Although her actions looked decisive as Ghia ran some basic checks her voice retained an underlying tremor to match the still shaking station when she asked, ‘Has anybody got anything?’
‘Main station power systems are on full enforced emergency shut down ah… Sir’, called Dan stating the obvious while preparing to suit up.
ah…Sir, fek that, thought Ghia fearing the not too subtle hint in the added emphasis.
‘Wait I’m getting something here it’s the establishment of the Complexes Essential Emergency Systems, Sir. Damage reports are being collated the event is being categorised as…’, Dan watched the flashing pending symbol then stared in shock at the red light washed word, ‘Fatal’, he gasped taking in his colleagues reactions as they stared back with a mixture of emotions ranging from blank momentary stupefaction to fear and or perhaps hopeful scepticism.
‘I’m receiving notification of a - non drill - preliminary automatic evacuation protocol Sir’, noted the solid Constable Matthews emotionlessly from the CSLD (Central Security Liaison Desk) even though his mouth felt a little dry. ‘Direct Line Cable Communication System has been activated. As you know the cable grid and the majority of its ancillary systems are seriously hardened, but I’m getting several holes nonetheless - we must have taken some serious damage - the auto lay and repair drones should start spinning across any gaps and replacing failed units straight away.’
‘Let me see that’, said Ghia stepping over disbelievingly, ‘I shoul-’, she was considering a seemingly dead right ear piece communications link when sound erupted from the CAO’s general address speakers. A dreaded but well known - from drills and simulations - musical coded serious of beeps played out followed by a taped and patched message that spewed forth like a stream of acrid hot vomit to inflict the Acting Helmsman’s equilibrium with nausea! Supposedly the techno babble was designed to be polite, informative and non threatening, hah!
‘Operating Senior Duty Officer - Junior helmsman Ghia - this is the CEES Central Monitoring System Automated Crisis Management Routine, Please note this is not a drill. Confirm receipt of Immediate Automatic Evacuation Protocol Initiation Stage One: (removal of all guests and non vital personnel) via tactical Central Security Monitoring System priority location tagging followed by tailored solution command instruction guided extraction vectors - please confirm protocol compliance - or instigate a command level administration override… awaiting response.’
Ghia felt like everyone was watching her especially that hard looking intimidating ANP Sergeant of Marines who had planted himself in the CAO recently. The Marine had already slipped expertly single handed into his own quick application vacuum suit the one he had pre-stored in its case (against general AF regulations in one corner of the CAO tight against the bulkhead). The added scrutiny only heightened Ghia’s growing feeling of utter inadequacy. Between the crazy expectation that she had taken control, thought Ghia, and this cursed gobbledegook Computer speak - the last thing that she needed right now was a killer Argon military stare!
The Acting Helmsman knew what someone in her position was supposed to do, but instead found herself looking around her fellow CAO bridge detainees (due to the lockdown) giving each member in turn her own level stare. The Junior Helmsman realised she was waiting for somebody to denounce her inexperience push her aside and step up to the required challenge! Ghia would even have been delighted if it was the god cursed Argon Navy Copper that forcibly relieved her of this duty - somebody / anybody feel free to jump in, she thought. Ghia really didn’t want the responsibility of making this decision. Simulations and drills were one thing, this space cold reality was something else!
It was no good at the moment - smooth faced and wide eyed though she was - Ghia was still technically the most senior AF officer on the deck, how could this have been allowed to happen? The whole CAO section shuddered as if to emphasise her plight - the Sergeant coughed impatiently, Ghia felt physically sick! The Helmsman could just about hear the various low key sounds of others slipping on their suits over her own furious if unhelpful mental processes. It was rampant insanity - except for the annoying ruddy light, the tremors and the system shut down - everything here looked normal - just the same as it had before this madness! Hell I’m virtually a trainee, thought the acting Helmsman, just out of management school. I can‘t make this decision can I? The station just couldn’t be on the verge of tearing itself apart could it? It was no good Ghia was positive this was no time for indecision - she was in danger of failing not just herself but everyone the whole god cursed station - but she couldn‘t bring himself to call it, ‘Communications get me Administrator Gregor on the link, now!’
The sergeant grumbled something under his breath, even though Ghia couldn’t quite make it out, she could feel her face burning, knowing it was hardly complimentary.
‘I’ve been trying to reach him Sir’, confessed Haj, ‘but all the communications inter-links are only just coming back on line. That blast seems to have messed with the complete network perhaps it created some kind of electro magnetic pulse. The entire system rebooted, unfortunately, in a regenerative state our links are being hijacked by people on the ground before they have had a chance to stabilise. The bandwidth is totally glued up tighter than a boron’s rear - and nobody is getting through at all - it’s a jumble’, continued Haj as he struggled without success to free up a link.
‘What about the DLC (Direct Line Cable) Communication System can we reach the Administrator that way Matthews?’ asked Ghia.
‘We could run a general Hail through to the Tribunal Court Region - that area still looks active. Gregor should still be there sealed in until safe evacuation routes are cascaded, however he would need to plug into an access point, or make a wireless connection to one of the DLC-COMSYS very limited short range wireless routers - if that facility is still working, frankly a lot of that more delicate stuff could be fried. I can’t diagnose those independent local links from this end’, noted the Security Liaison Officer.
‘Do the hail’, commanded Ghia.
Matthews pressed record and said, ‘CSLD Hailing Administrator Gregor please patch into your nearest Direct Line Cable Info Panel access point for DLC Communication to the bridge or link to a panels short range wireless router’ he then pressed stop, sent it to the regional address of the Tribunal Court Region and hit the repeat until answered or stopped function.
‘General Hail being sent Sir’, finished the Policeman on the Liaison Desk.
‘What about the link can we free it up?’ asked Ghia
‘I’m on it’, said the Computer boffin Iyn. Ever since the red lights had come on Iyn had been bouncing about in the background in a whirlwind of - seemingly so far unproductive activity - while shrugging off all attempts to get him to suit up with complaints of… later! Now the boffin stopped dancing from one dead or semi active system to another to tap away with no less energy on his computer pad muttering away to himself, ‘This should work - a pre established priority lock out. That’s it’, he grinned, ‘this instruction set will initiate first during reboot. It will protect the initial spinning of the net from all but authorised and high level access just like the normal established routines should’, he babbled then said out loud, ‘Fix going in, but by necessity it will knock out all non cable communications until the system is fully up and robust - sorry - that’s the factual.’
‘OK Iyn nice job’, replied Ghia with an unconvincing grin that failed to touch her eyes. The erratic computer genius bothered her Iyn was hard work, and had been pestering Ghia for a date ever since she arrived on the Forge apparently he pestered all the new inexperienced females! Internally she was thinking the fekkin big brained but goofy Boron sphincter jet propelled watery fart could have thought to put in this simple protective measure before all the communications crashed as in this incident!
Paranidia curse everyone anyway - of all the times to decide to phone home! Then Ghia reconsidered, it was after all totally understandable to use your link to try to find out what was going on, what to do, and or if your loved ones were still alive. Damn it, it would be second nature to link in Ghia herself would have if she wasn‘t at the stations heart and soul. What the fek am I doing here now - I just push buttons - follow instructions I’m not ready for life and death decisions. An overload communications jam would be impossible on the normally sturdy network - at most you would get managed heavy data download slowdowns even a raw barely post academy girl like Ghia knew that! Besides as everyone else also knew in a crisis situation such as this - automatic cut offs - applied to non essential traffic! All prime channels of communication were kept safely protected.
So much for cursed assumptions typically it appeared no one had considered a total communications shut down and reboot being placed under immediate overload pressure. The initial reboot must have opened up some unexpected breaches in the not quite fully loaded electronic barriers allowing in an unwanted and disastrously clogging flood. Well if she survived it would be something to carry forward and might earn a commendation, however, somebody should have damn well thought of it already!
‘Please confirm compliance or override’, insisted the dry CSMS ACMR (Automated Crisis Management Routine) function via the CAO’s direct line speakers. Somehow the computer simulated voice sounded impatient to the Acting Helmsman’s ears.
What was keeping the Administrator? wondered Ghia.
Knowing micro segments could mean everything in a crisis like this and chagrined at her momentary prevarication Ghia finally surrendered to the hateful necessity ‘Officer on deck formally confirms compliance’, she said stunned at her own historic words. Ghia had just ordered the first stage of a full station evacuation. The very Junior Manager couldn’t believe it.
‘This is CSMS ACMR currently unable to activate Emergency Goner Transport Devices under main power. Limited Transport under local e-cell storage backup possible such E-GTD will be retained for high priority assists only - on a case by case basis. Please continue efforts to re-establish full communications as a priority. In the interim evacuations will go ahead via foot traffic protocols using direct line speakers / and or info panels - please Confirm or submit alternative priorities.’
‘Confirmed’, replied Ghia it was getting easier, ‘what just happened was it a bomb?’
‘According to central’, explained Dan, ‘it was an obscenely high velocity collision Sir by a…’, he quailed with embarrassment at having to repeat this, ‘Small Transport! Sir. We’ve lost all the shields and the whole of the Harbour Tower West, our stress readings in many sections are off the board and in wild fluctuation the impact strength was phenomenal! We have multiple hull breaches and too many hazard warnings to list… Fek Sir, according to this were moving at varying if low velocity the whole complex is drifting and rotating its very slow but we are still crumpling and going to sheer!’ said Dan his voice rising in pitch as he started to feel panic inside.
The MP Marine Sergeant stepped over to stand behind Ghi, ‘Sir, you need to keep them steady’ he whispered.
‘Ah right’, said Ghia, ‘Everybody lets just follow the drills! We still have the E-GTD if things get too hot otherwise it is our duty to coordinate any hitches that the automatics can’t handle! Dan your last call I need you to monitor our safety margin. Scream out when you think it’s time to go.’
Dan wanted to scream out immediately but felt shamed by the to his mind rookie management girls cool.
What, wondered Ghia, would happen when the complex buckled and wrenched apart. Just how Fatal was this estimated station fatality. Did the term Fatal mean mandatory evacuation to be safe, or that the whole rig might come apart or blow or both? Ghia couldn’t recall a similar episode off the top of her head - most station kills were by concerted energy weapon fire and or high grade munitions not a single drastic high energy impact that may or may not cause a series of structural failures and instabilities. They needed to talk to somebody like the AFC 4 Master of Engineers Bushido Kramer right away, unfortunately with mainstream communications down…
Gregor was with the ArgonForge Vice President Jollo in the Tribunal Courts Foyer surrounded by other dignitaries, company sycophants, media and a mixed bunch of security guards. After they had recovered from: the jolt, the dire noise, the slamming bulkheads, change of lighting hue, and managed to calm everyone down to a background roar Gregor tried to link into the CAO without success. Around him almost everyone else also had fidgeting hands to ears and were looking very unhappy! Forgetting the CAO Gregor then tried several other people including the Commander but it was useless.
Pulling out his Computer Pad he tried connecting to the Integrated Complex Computer System only to find that didn’t work either, ‘Whatever just happened all our wireless communications seem to be down’, said Gregor, as the room shook and groaned ‘that can‘t be good!’
‘We need to sort out and distribute vacuum suits’, replied Jollo quietly while clipping his pad back onto his smart Argon Forge station suits utility belt, ‘also find and plug into an active direct line access point or find a working interactive emergency information terminal.’
‘We have plenty of suits here (already tested stacked and ready to go)’, said Gregor smiling, ‘for once Jollo a little paranoid foresight has paid off. As to the links all that we require lies in the Tribunal Courts Inner Reception Area - if the door will open for me!’ returned Gregor looking toward the sealed unit. Gregor found himself calmly wondering if he had only moments left to live somehow it felt liberating! Something bad had happened, chances were if it was catastrophic without instantaneous communications they wouldn’t survive long enough to find out what? Gregor could almost feel a weight he didn’t even realise he was still carrying - having already shrugged off a lot recently - falling away! Then the general hail came in from the Central Security Liaison Desk, ‘Sounds like home had the same idea’, said the Administrator.
Garrin waited impatiently as Rutger nodded, ‘RJL-T2 out.’
‘Well’, said Garrin, to the bodyguard using the ships communications.
‘Suewyn is fine as is Josh they have been holding the respective Office Forts and keeping in touch, they have Anna’s trace she is static in the transit tube no doubt with the rest of RJL-T1. I think a few of us should mount a rescue operation in case they are stuck. At least we can take in a portable array and re-establish contact - the main station communications net is still down’, noted Rutger.
‘Ok lets go’, said G.
‘I don’t know about that’, said Chin, ‘you should get off station as soon as those Marines working out there manage to crack the bay door.’
‘Like hell’, said Garrin, ‘never mind anything else Elaen is in there… and Anna. I can’t just run away. Besides you might well need an extra able body I’m guessing we might need to hump some equipment. Can we get a relay on that trace?’
‘No problem’, said Dell, ‘I’ll crack out our portable scanner I still have the unique signature on file from shadow monitoring the Ball Emergency Goner Transport.’
‘Could we just snatch them out that way?’ asked G.
‘Only Anna we don’t have any means of getting a reliable fix on the others without a link signal. If we spring Anna we lose the position of everyone else only Anna is carrying a unique trace that we know of’, explained Dell.
‘Lets not make the same mistake ourselves everybody get a transport beacon badge and I’ll take enough spares to cover the rest of the lads plus’, noted Rutger.
‘Just who are you guys, were did you get all those toys?’ asked Garrin.
‘If we told you we would have to kill you’, laughed Chin, ‘look I‘ll stay here and run the Operation from the Grim Reaper with an itchy finger on Garrin’s GTD if you need it. However, you know I will only be able to bring you out one at a time using this limited system’, he advised.
‘Right lets kit up and get moving’, said Rutger.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 69 – Collateral Damage
In later times AFC 4 ‘Hells Hammer’ survivors when they congregated often asked each other the same question - where were you when the Forge was struck? The answers were often mundane, a few dramatic, a couple surprising, some given the Argon races steadfast resilient nature would later be painted darkly comic! No one however would ever answer this query with the phase ‘The Harbour Tower West’ - because anyone in that particular location lost any ability to relate any further experiences whatsoever - HTW the site of impact (ground zero if you like) was a total wipe out, obliterated in one far too casual if furious instant of molten destruction. An event frequently played and replayed in the media in extreme slow motion.
Harbour Tower West prior to being ghosted in this spectacular manner had been in construction and content the Twin to Harbour Tower East for example: HTW contained some small independent office spaces, non AF business worker accommodation, and small freelance high tech manufacturing units. Most tragically though it was the home to the well known operation called SpaceGear - a vacuum suit maintenance and repair facility - that operated under licence from ArgonForge. SpaceGear handled (officially) around fifteen percent of the stations AF suit upkeep business - plus a whooping seventy five percent - of on station independent suit work for non AFC 4 clients.
Unfortunately suit maintenance was an employee heavy business - most Argons just didn’t like this sort of vital safety work being undertaken by machines - and who could blame them! Suit care by spacers was often undertaken with a degree of distinctly positive paranoia - most old timers frequently insisting on doing their own suit maintenance - or at least embarrassingly detailed double checks upon any recently returned item. SpaceGear as an operator in this unique field ran on its reputation more than most, and had good reasons for being well respected - having had an almost perfect safety record from its advent (in fact the company was so adept that it was often preferred by some members of AFC 4’s senior staff). Even Administrator Gregor had his two favourite vacuum suits checked regularly by SpaceGear (discreetly of course out of his own pocket) although he made a big show of getting the others (that he never actually used if he could help it) looked after in house by AF!
Due to the Lone Wolfs Hammer - SpaceGear and HTW were fated to become indelibly entwined in infamy. Being independent of AF the small company had declined to honour the AF official Treason Trial Holiday (people still needed their suits and SG simply couldn‘t halt or delay its ongoing vital enterprise without creating a grievous backlog) every one of its eighty three members of staff were therefore productively working away when they were erased from existence. With most of these unfortunates also departed the bulk of their families husbands of wives, wives of husbands and most shockingly of all the children. The younger generation - were sadly on holiday from their on station education - and predestined to become the most innocent of victims, perishing just because they were in HTW worker accommodations! All in all when tallied by cold statistical calculation two hundred and seventy eight souls perished in the Harbour Tower West of these a dire one hundred and ninety four had direct links to SpaceGear! It was the biggest single direct consequence of the Hammers fell stroke, but far from the only one to be felt that cycle or even much, much later.
Following the calamity the CAO was briefly plunged into darkness. Heavy anti blast bulkhead doors slammed down with a chilling finality. Emergency lighting blossomed while vacuum suits storage lockers hissed and shot open. Washed in the blood glow after regaining her unsteady balance the first thing the young female Junior Helmsmen Ghia noticed was just how wide the eyes of her immediate colleague at the Central Control Console were. It was not comforting the way the whites of Dan’s crazed orbs glowed down upon her like twin sinister baleful rings tainted as they were by the pessimistic crimson slaughterhouse glow!
Meanwhile the designated Safety Officer Ross O’lerin slipped into a vacuum suit with the help of the AF Police Constable Patricia for whom he immediately returned the favour. Then together they began distributing this survival gear to the rest starting with their new commander Ghia!
‘Fek’, cursed Ghia struggling into the unit with Ross’s help while looking at the immobile obstruction of the computer sealed emergency bulkhead door. The Senior Duty Officer Reggie the Stations designated Helmsman had insisted on going to the outer Executive Washroom because he had managed to acquire Gregor’s cursed key and the fool was now effectively locked out of the sealed AFC 4 Central Administration Office Bridge!
Getting a one handed grip to steady herself against the tall control console known as the Station Helm from the shaking vibrations Ghia clumsily slapped on her helmet with the other keeping her visor open and staying off tank. While doing the latter action Ghia found herself not very coolly considered the effect of the loss of her superior on the legitimate ArgonForge Complex Four CAO Bridge chain of command. When the dire fact hit home the Junior Officer and young Manger visibly blanched. Desperately she attempted to reactivate her very dead virtual controls. Although her actions looked decisive as Ghia ran some basic checks her voice retained an underlying tremor to match the still shaking station when she asked, ‘Has anybody got anything?’
‘Main station power systems are on full enforced emergency shut down ah… Sir’, called Dan stating the obvious while preparing to suit up.
ah…Sir, fek that, thought Ghia fearing the not too subtle hint in the added emphasis.
‘Wait I’m getting something here it’s the establishment of the Complexes Essential Emergency Systems, Sir. Damage reports are being collated the event is being categorised as…’, Dan watched the flashing pending symbol then stared in shock at the red light washed word, ‘Fatal’, he gasped taking in his colleagues reactions as they stared back with a mixture of emotions ranging from blank momentary stupefaction to fear and or perhaps hopeful scepticism.
‘I’m receiving notification of a - non drill - preliminary automatic evacuation protocol Sir’, noted the solid Constable Matthews emotionlessly from the CSLD (Central Security Liaison Desk) even though his mouth felt a little dry. ‘Direct Line Cable Communication System has been activated. As you know the cable grid and the majority of its ancillary systems are seriously hardened, but I’m getting several holes nonetheless - we must have taken some serious damage - the auto lay and repair drones should start spinning across any gaps and replacing failed units straight away.’
‘Let me see that’, said Ghia stepping over disbelievingly, ‘I shoul-’, she was considering a seemingly dead right ear piece communications link when sound erupted from the CAO’s general address speakers. A dreaded but well known - from drills and simulations - musical coded serious of beeps played out followed by a taped and patched message that spewed forth like a stream of acrid hot vomit to inflict the Acting Helmsman’s equilibrium with nausea! Supposedly the techno babble was designed to be polite, informative and non threatening, hah!
‘Operating Senior Duty Officer - Junior helmsman Ghia - this is the CEES Central Monitoring System Automated Crisis Management Routine, Please note this is not a drill. Confirm receipt of Immediate Automatic Evacuation Protocol Initiation Stage One: (removal of all guests and non vital personnel) via tactical Central Security Monitoring System priority location tagging followed by tailored solution command instruction guided extraction vectors - please confirm protocol compliance - or instigate a command level administration override… awaiting response.’
Ghia felt like everyone was watching her especially that hard looking intimidating ANP Sergeant of Marines who had planted himself in the CAO recently. The Marine had already slipped expertly single handed into his own quick application vacuum suit the one he had pre-stored in its case (against general AF regulations in one corner of the CAO tight against the bulkhead). The added scrutiny only heightened Ghia’s growing feeling of utter inadequacy. Between the crazy expectation that she had taken control, thought Ghia, and this cursed gobbledegook Computer speak - the last thing that she needed right now was a killer Argon military stare!
The Acting Helmsman knew what someone in her position was supposed to do, but instead found herself looking around her fellow CAO bridge detainees (due to the lockdown) giving each member in turn her own level stare. The Junior Helmsman realised she was waiting for somebody to denounce her inexperience push her aside and step up to the required challenge! Ghia would even have been delighted if it was the god cursed Argon Navy Copper that forcibly relieved her of this duty - somebody / anybody feel free to jump in, she thought. Ghia really didn’t want the responsibility of making this decision. Simulations and drills were one thing, this space cold reality was something else!
It was no good at the moment - smooth faced and wide eyed though she was - Ghia was still technically the most senior AF officer on the deck, how could this have been allowed to happen? The whole CAO section shuddered as if to emphasise her plight - the Sergeant coughed impatiently, Ghia felt physically sick! The Helmsman could just about hear the various low key sounds of others slipping on their suits over her own furious if unhelpful mental processes. It was rampant insanity - except for the annoying ruddy light, the tremors and the system shut down - everything here looked normal - just the same as it had before this madness! Hell I’m virtually a trainee, thought the acting Helmsman, just out of management school. I can‘t make this decision can I? The station just couldn’t be on the verge of tearing itself apart could it? It was no good Ghia was positive this was no time for indecision - she was in danger of failing not just herself but everyone the whole god cursed station - but she couldn‘t bring himself to call it, ‘Communications get me Administrator Gregor on the link, now!’
The sergeant grumbled something under his breath, even though Ghia couldn’t quite make it out, she could feel her face burning, knowing it was hardly complimentary.
‘I’ve been trying to reach him Sir’, confessed Haj, ‘but all the communications inter-links are only just coming back on line. That blast seems to have messed with the complete network perhaps it created some kind of electro magnetic pulse. The entire system rebooted, unfortunately, in a regenerative state our links are being hijacked by people on the ground before they have had a chance to stabilise. The bandwidth is totally glued up tighter than a boron’s rear - and nobody is getting through at all - it’s a jumble’, continued Haj as he struggled without success to free up a link.
‘What about the DLC (Direct Line Cable) Communication System can we reach the Administrator that way Matthews?’ asked Ghia.
‘We could run a general Hail through to the Tribunal Court Region - that area still looks active. Gregor should still be there sealed in until safe evacuation routes are cascaded, however he would need to plug into an access point, or make a wireless connection to one of the DLC-COMSYS very limited short range wireless routers - if that facility is still working, frankly a lot of that more delicate stuff could be fried. I can’t diagnose those independent local links from this end’, noted the Security Liaison Officer.
‘Do the hail’, commanded Ghia.
Matthews pressed record and said, ‘CSLD Hailing Administrator Gregor please patch into your nearest Direct Line Cable Info Panel access point for DLC Communication to the bridge or link to a panels short range wireless router’ he then pressed stop, sent it to the regional address of the Tribunal Court Region and hit the repeat until answered or stopped function.
‘General Hail being sent Sir’, finished the Policeman on the Liaison Desk.
‘What about the link can we free it up?’ asked Ghia
‘I’m on it’, said the Computer boffin Iyn. Ever since the red lights had come on Iyn had been bouncing about in the background in a whirlwind of - seemingly so far unproductive activity - while shrugging off all attempts to get him to suit up with complaints of… later! Now the boffin stopped dancing from one dead or semi active system to another to tap away with no less energy on his computer pad muttering away to himself, ‘This should work - a pre established priority lock out. That’s it’, he grinned, ‘this instruction set will initiate first during reboot. It will protect the initial spinning of the net from all but authorised and high level access just like the normal established routines should’, he babbled then said out loud, ‘Fix going in, but by necessity it will knock out all non cable communications until the system is fully up and robust - sorry - that’s the factual.’
‘OK Iyn nice job’, replied Ghia with an unconvincing grin that failed to touch her eyes. The erratic computer genius bothered her Iyn was hard work, and had been pestering Ghia for a date ever since she arrived on the Forge apparently he pestered all the new inexperienced females! Internally she was thinking the fekkin big brained but goofy Boron sphincter jet propelled watery fart could have thought to put in this simple protective measure before all the communications crashed as in this incident!
Paranidia curse everyone anyway - of all the times to decide to phone home! Then Ghia reconsidered, it was after all totally understandable to use your link to try to find out what was going on, what to do, and or if your loved ones were still alive. Damn it, it would be second nature to link in Ghia herself would have if she wasn‘t at the stations heart and soul. What the fek am I doing here now - I just push buttons - follow instructions I’m not ready for life and death decisions. An overload communications jam would be impossible on the normally sturdy network - at most you would get managed heavy data download slowdowns even a raw barely post academy girl like Ghia knew that! Besides as everyone else also knew in a crisis situation such as this - automatic cut offs - applied to non essential traffic! All prime channels of communication were kept safely protected.
So much for cursed assumptions typically it appeared no one had considered a total communications shut down and reboot being placed under immediate overload pressure. The initial reboot must have opened up some unexpected breaches in the not quite fully loaded electronic barriers allowing in an unwanted and disastrously clogging flood. Well if she survived it would be something to carry forward and might earn a commendation, however, somebody should have damn well thought of it already!
‘Please confirm compliance or override’, insisted the dry CSMS ACMR (Automated Crisis Management Routine) function via the CAO’s direct line speakers. Somehow the computer simulated voice sounded impatient to the Acting Helmsman’s ears.
What was keeping the Administrator? wondered Ghia.
Knowing micro segments could mean everything in a crisis like this and chagrined at her momentary prevarication Ghia finally surrendered to the hateful necessity ‘Officer on deck formally confirms compliance’, she said stunned at her own historic words. Ghia had just ordered the first stage of a full station evacuation. The very Junior Manager couldn’t believe it.
‘This is CSMS ACMR currently unable to activate Emergency Goner Transport Devices under main power. Limited Transport under local e-cell storage backup possible such E-GTD will be retained for high priority assists only - on a case by case basis. Please continue efforts to re-establish full communications as a priority. In the interim evacuations will go ahead via foot traffic protocols using direct line speakers / and or info panels - please Confirm or submit alternative priorities.’
‘Confirmed’, replied Ghia it was getting easier, ‘what just happened was it a bomb?’
‘According to central’, explained Dan, ‘it was an obscenely high velocity collision Sir by a…’, he quailed with embarrassment at having to repeat this, ‘Small Transport! Sir. We’ve lost all the shields and the whole of the Harbour Tower West, our stress readings in many sections are off the board and in wild fluctuation the impact strength was phenomenal! We have multiple hull breaches and too many hazard warnings to list… Fek Sir, according to this were moving at varying if low velocity the whole complex is drifting and rotating its very slow but we are still crumpling and going to sheer!’ said Dan his voice rising in pitch as he started to feel panic inside.
The MP Marine Sergeant stepped over to stand behind Ghi, ‘Sir, you need to keep them steady’ he whispered.
‘Ah right’, said Ghia, ‘Everybody lets just follow the drills! We still have the E-GTD if things get too hot otherwise it is our duty to coordinate any hitches that the automatics can’t handle! Dan your last call I need you to monitor our safety margin. Scream out when you think it’s time to go.’
Dan wanted to scream out immediately but felt shamed by the to his mind rookie management girls cool.
What, wondered Ghia, would happen when the complex buckled and wrenched apart. Just how Fatal was this estimated station fatality. Did the term Fatal mean mandatory evacuation to be safe, or that the whole rig might come apart or blow or both? Ghia couldn’t recall a similar episode off the top of her head - most station kills were by concerted energy weapon fire and or high grade munitions not a single drastic high energy impact that may or may not cause a series of structural failures and instabilities. They needed to talk to somebody like the AFC 4 Master of Engineers Bushido Kramer right away, unfortunately with mainstream communications down…
Gregor was with the ArgonForge Vice President Jollo in the Tribunal Courts Foyer surrounded by other dignitaries, company sycophants, media and a mixed bunch of security guards. After they had recovered from: the jolt, the dire noise, the slamming bulkheads, change of lighting hue, and managed to calm everyone down to a background roar Gregor tried to link into the CAO without success. Around him almost everyone else also had fidgeting hands to ears and were looking very unhappy! Forgetting the CAO Gregor then tried several other people including the Commander but it was useless.
Pulling out his Computer Pad he tried connecting to the Integrated Complex Computer System only to find that didn’t work either, ‘Whatever just happened all our wireless communications seem to be down’, said Gregor, as the room shook and groaned ‘that can‘t be good!’
‘We need to sort out and distribute vacuum suits’, replied Jollo quietly while clipping his pad back onto his smart Argon Forge station suits utility belt, ‘also find and plug into an active direct line access point or find a working interactive emergency information terminal.’
‘We have plenty of suits here (already tested stacked and ready to go)’, said Gregor smiling, ‘for once Jollo a little paranoid foresight has paid off. As to the links all that we require lies in the Tribunal Courts Inner Reception Area - if the door will open for me!’ returned Gregor looking toward the sealed unit. Gregor found himself calmly wondering if he had only moments left to live somehow it felt liberating! Something bad had happened, chances were if it was catastrophic without instantaneous communications they wouldn’t survive long enough to find out what? Gregor could almost feel a weight he didn’t even realise he was still carrying - having already shrugged off a lot recently - falling away! Then the general hail came in from the Central Security Liaison Desk, ‘Sounds like home had the same idea’, said the Administrator.
Garrin waited impatiently as Rutger nodded, ‘RJL-T2 out.’
‘Well’, said Garrin, to the bodyguard using the ships communications.
‘Suewyn is fine as is Josh they have been holding the respective Office Forts and keeping in touch, they have Anna’s trace she is static in the transit tube no doubt with the rest of RJL-T1. I think a few of us should mount a rescue operation in case they are stuck. At least we can take in a portable array and re-establish contact - the main station communications net is still down’, noted Rutger.
‘Ok lets go’, said G.
‘I don’t know about that’, said Chin, ‘you should get off station as soon as those Marines working out there manage to crack the bay door.’
‘Like hell’, said Garrin, ‘never mind anything else Elaen is in there… and Anna. I can’t just run away. Besides you might well need an extra able body I’m guessing we might need to hump some equipment. Can we get a relay on that trace?’
‘No problem’, said Dell, ‘I’ll crack out our portable scanner I still have the unique signature on file from shadow monitoring the Ball Emergency Goner Transport.’
‘Could we just snatch them out that way?’ asked G.
‘Only Anna we don’t have any means of getting a reliable fix on the others without a link signal. If we spring Anna we lose the position of everyone else only Anna is carrying a unique trace that we know of’, explained Dell.
‘Lets not make the same mistake ourselves everybody get a transport beacon badge and I’ll take enough spares to cover the rest of the lads plus’, noted Rutger.
‘Just who are you guys, were did you get all those toys?’ asked Garrin.
‘If we told you we would have to kill you’, laughed Chin, ‘look I‘ll stay here and run the Operation from the Grim Reaper with an itchy finger on Garrin’s GTD if you need it. However, you know I will only be able to bring you out one at a time using this limited system’, he advised.
‘Right lets kit up and get moving’, said Rutger.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Fri, 26. Oct 07, 15:35, edited 5 times in total.
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Paranoid66
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- Joined: Tue, 19. Apr 05, 10:59
Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 70 – More Than Mere Statistics
The Transit Module rested on its side at the end of a long train of destruction behind it smoke bellowed, and scattered fires burned fitfully then an explosion occurred with a rumble. The module shook as a billow of hot air rolled past, ‘That can’t be good’, said Elaen, ‘so much for - travel at ease’, she said quoting the old AFC 4 transit module slogan.
‘Nothing’, said Ravn still hanging on to Anna’s link.
‘Sir, can we contact Reaper Alpha or the Grim Reaper or the Troop Transport direct?’ asked Cole.
‘Good point’, said Ravn after all the ships had their own communication systems outside the station net it was just a question of changing the links frequency and hoping the communicators low signal strength could reach through the bulkheads. The Chief tried the RJL frequency first but got nothing - well they were civilian rigs - no surprise there. Rav then tried linking into Fay and got a very weak carrier signal. Well the ear pieces weren’t really designed for this sort of thing. Normally even ship to personnel traffic was bounced through the stations arrays and nodes not accepted direct - still it was worth a try.
‘T-TP-L-alpha-One this is LoneWarden are you receiving over’, asked Ravn.
Silence
‘T-TP-L-alpha-One this is LoneWarden are you receiving over.’
Silence
‘T-TP-L-alpha-One this is LoneWarden are you receiving over.’
Silence
‘It’s no good too much of this stuff between us’, said Ravn knocking against the modules wall.
‘Maybe outside in the Tunnel’, said Anna hopefully, but not really believing it, while reaching out toward her link however, the Chief just pocketed the device.
‘Later Anna not now!’ Rav said firmly, ‘priorities with communications down, we need to get out of this box and find some emergency vacuum suit lockers.’
‘Every Transit Stop has a twenty rack’, said Anna.
‘Sir we have a mobile communications array back at Anna’s office’, reminded Cole.
‘Along with a lot of other very useful stuff’, supplemented Pete.
‘I need to get there too - trust me its essential work for the Federation’, said Anna feeling a bit stupid given how pompous that sounded.
‘No need to panic on the communication front I’m pretty sure I could hack into our guest’, said Cole pointing with a computer pad.
Outside a communications repair drone was moving past spinning out a line of optic cable from its rear as it moved along.
‘That’s convenient’, said Ravn feeling a little overly suspicious.
‘Just because I’m Paranoid’, said Elaen pulling out the Brek and Tyrell to break a seal and pull the emergency exit activator.
‘I always liked the Grief maker’, said Pax as the modules front windscreen sprung to the side.
‘It’s the Lost for Words Sir.’
‘Captain Evans how does it look from your end?’ asked Fay from her Operations Room on the Troop Transport.
‘Sir, AFC 4 is in motion with an extreme sheer risk. I would suggest you GTD to safety now. The necessary action really is too delicate an operation for rash tractor beams but we have to try’, noted Evans.
‘Just do it!’ screamed out Fay as she watched the patched in horror of the external view. The picture the Lost for Words was providing showed buckling along the stations two elongated arms as the complex was ever so slowly twisting. A beam lashed out from somewhere off shot shifting through the spectrum to go green as it locked tight. They all felt the wrenching vibration and heard more horrible structural groans and creeks. More debris broke loose from the stations skin into the void, new cracks appeared others widened further plumes vented but the overall station seemed to be holding true. It didn’t feel real it was like watching some disaster PVR - how could they be sitting so calmly inside the tattered subject of that image?
‘Fek me!’, said Fay, ‘I could use a drink. What’s the readings now Captain?’
‘Still borderline fatal Sir’, explained Evans, ‘I would still advocate immediate evacuation. AFC 4 might hold together permanently or start breaking apart at any moment there are just too many variables. Based on our simulations if she starts to go chances are she will go fast in a rapidly increasing chain reaction Sir!’
‘I still have a vital operation running on board Captain’, said Fay, ‘bring some rescue ships into transport range and keep us locked on and ready to go. I can’t abandon this mission early - too much is at stake!’
‘Sir, you might like to know we received a broadcast of responsibility from some independent loon. We’re looking into it!’ said Evans.
‘Fine, any clear and present danger’, asked Fay.
‘Sir if it was this Ishchi freak I think he has played his hand’, said the Captain, ‘but the call could just be a cover or misinformation for a wider operation or a more nefarious group.’
‘Let’s hope it’s not, but keep those scanners on and focused’, returned Fay.
‘Sir what about the LFW doing evacuation support’, asked Evans, ‘also the fleet is incoming.’
‘Too risky also tell them to stay clear, demand it damn it, I take full responsibility’, said Fay, ‘too many cooks and the waters here are muddy enough. I want the Lightning Spears in here crashing this party - full kit - as soon as we can get this cursed Bay door open that’s all!’
‘Sir one other matter have you seen the news?’ asked Evans.
‘The News?’, repeated Fay.
‘I’m downloading the broadcast Sir I believe it might be of interest’, said the Captain.
‘Patch incoming signal to my screen Sage’, said Fay watching the news item with an incredulous stare, ‘The devious fekker, operations anything from Ravn or Anna’
‘Nothing yet Sir’, came the reply.
‘Do we still have a fix?’ asked Fay
‘Yes Sir, we still have the dogs scent’, replied the Marine.
‘How is Siidan doing?’ questioned the Commander in Chief.
‘Hacking through bulkheads, but they should breach the module tunnel network any segment now’, noted the Operations Officer.
It will be a miracle is this doesn’t get bloody, thought Fay to herself, ‘I want that cursed door open! Tell the bay team if its safe and necessary to blast it - hell just tell them to do it - as soon as - or ill rip them out of their precious suits and throw them out the door myself’, shouted Fay.
The Commander was forced to use his senior security code to temporarily override the doors lockdown. As Carl impatiently ducked in under the rising obstacle two other figures almost knocked him aside in their haste to get out - angry at this treatment - Carl shouted out, ‘Hey where do you…’, but he could hear them running off as the door commenced to reseal now behind him, fools they would just be locked within the next closed sector. This minor distraction only held off the horrid (unfortunately not unfamiliar) scent for an instant then it drove home churning his stomach - burnt flesh and ozone - a bad combination on any station or ship. The stench hastily combined with another blow to his joy this time an angry crowd sound - over a background wailing scream - a fine presage of doom.
The Commander was quickly mobbed by a tight group - mostly walking wounded - with scorched dirty and damaged clothing alongside visible minor cuts abrasions and burns. The echoed mixing of: loud shouts, queries, explanations, and demands made them all but incomprehensible. One aggressive individual who looked physically intact yelled for Carl to open the fekkin door and tried to roughly grab the Security Commander by the front of his tactical jacket. Carl moved instantly almost without thinking to restrain the aggressor with a simple self defence move that saw the perpetrator face down with one arm and hand twisted backwards and up. Putting a little angry pressure on - the man groaned but stayed still on his knees sweating. Carl pulled his weapon, ‘AF Commander of Police, back up and calm down’, he yelled pushing the Argon gently forward and letting him go so that he sprawled face first to the deck with a curse.
Relative silence descended and a little space was made - Carl could however still hear bawling in the background it sounded like a very distraught child - then one voice cut through that unpleasant siren and the more restrained murmurs. It was a strident female voice full of anger and authority, ‘Fekkin selfish pack rats let the Commander through to the one person that needs him most’, said the female.
By her uniform the big no nonsense type woman was an AFC 4 maintenance tech - one of the new batch that came with the reshuffle, Carl guessed, not really recognising her face.
‘This way Commander - please hurry - names Sal, sorry about these yapping puppies’, yelled the tech glaring at the mob, ‘I tried to stop them, but the fragment was hot and still burning. They pulled it out and now no one can stop the bleed! I heard you lot have some basic medical training. We’ve already cracked this stops Medic Pack and given Hern a dose for the pain but he didn‘t stop screaming till he passed out’, bellowed the Tech, ‘That’s his wife Marin over there cuddling the crying four year old Joan and the strapping teenager that looks like he is in shock is Hern’s son Olaf.’
Carl winced - everyone was shouting - a common side effect caused by being too near a loud explosion (they were all suffering from temporary or maybe permanently damaged hearing and overcompensating). Approaching the patient Carl passed a few roughly covered bodies before he reached Hern. Somebody was applying pressure trying to stem a tidal arterial flow from a rip in the Argons thigh a little down from the groin area. Carl could see it was already too late the unfortunates body was almost blue (under his white torch light) a lake of dampness spread out from underneath. The Commander couldn’t help but notice the smears and occasional almost too perfect footprint even under the red light beyond his narrow beam.
It was totally in vain, however, in front of the victims despairing family the Commander couldn’t just let it go - he felt it was a necessity to try but hated himself for giving out any false impression of hope. Quickly wiping his hands under the portable steriliser unit Carl grabbed a clamp and dug in. Fatefully the Commanders inept attempts to seal the slippery badly damaged artery didn’t have to go on for too long Hern just slipped away and stopped breathing, it was over!
‘I’m sorry’, said Carl.
‘So am I', whispered Sal, 'I think I knew it was useless but I just couldn’t ignore…’, tears welled up in her eyes and she turned around gave a big sniff wiped her face with a meaty palm and straightened up, ‘Sorry again so what happens now?’
Carl looked over the expectant crowd, ‘Everybody listen’, he shouted waiting for the people to quieten and gather in, ‘I’m sure you all know the main communication network is down, and I can see that you have lost the DLC-COMSYS Information panel here - to a localised explosion! Luckily from what I can see the main force of this blast must have channelled up and down the tunnel rather that laterally through the bulkhead.’
‘I think it was the emergency oxygen tank refill store that went up’ explained the tech, ‘there was an out of control transit module it sped right through here colliding with the tubes walls spraying hot debris and sparks somehow it’s passage must have set off the tank. The five fatalities were all close to the connection interfaces reading or waiting to read the Panel.’
‘That makes sense unfortunately it means this area is pretty much incommunicado for the moment with even the Direct Line down', noted carl, 'However, you also know that we have very specific drills and procedures for every emergency. You are not locked in here by accident it is by design. Remember this - when a way is clear you will be contacted and guided out even if it is done via a roving Drone. If I opened the door you would just be penned up in another sealed section - maybe with even less resources to hand - further any likely nasty surprises in this immediate area here have probably happened already! The ICCS will be mapping out viable routes calculating congestion issues and more picky logistical details than I can possibly imagine.’
‘You could guide us out’, said one hopeful voice.
‘I can just unlock doors', said the commander, 'but I have no more idea of a safe route out than the next person. I could be leading you all into danger or foul up the overall evacuation plan. Look if there are undamaged vacuum suits here on the racks hand them out otherwise pull together and hang in here for the word from the Automated Crisis Management Routine - it will come. I have an emergency of my own to deal with, and believe me I’m not even sure I want to go that direction myself!’
‘So we just sit and wait to die!’ complained one woman.
‘Well you can wait to die if you want’, replied Sal, ‘I plan to survive and get out. I’ve been in a few scrapes in my time - survival is often a question of the right attitude Miss! Where are you going Commander?’
‘Down there he pointed into the smoke filled tunnel’, said Carl.
‘Do you need a hand?’, asked Sal.
‘Yeah you can try and keep this lot from committing suicide’, said the Commander.
‘I think I’d almost rather go with you even down there’, smiled the Tech.
‘I take it no more modules will come through here anytime soon?’ questioned Carl.
‘I would say not’, noted Sal, ’if I judge it right this is a full emergency shut down! What happened here indicates the sort of dangers likely associated with running fast transit systems on a station either under attack or damaged - it is a standard practice to cut all such operations. However, I have seen a few fires and flares down there so even without getting run over that's no walk in the park.’
‘Listen I’m going to use my authority to feed in a special pass code to the door so you can open it to the next section… in an emergency! The code will only work on this door. I’m doing this just in case this tunnels sealed section gets a breach or a wider fire before help arrives' said Carl, 'Keep everyone close to the exit but don’t pop it unless you have too, and get them through quickly then let it reseal. Only if necessary mind, if you lot shift around or separate it might just make rescuing you that much harder’, noted the Commander, ‘come with me and ill tell you the alpha numeric.’
‘Fine’, said Sal.
A little alter Carl double checked the Transit Module Stations normally sturdy DLC-COMSYS Information Panel half of it was blown away the rest charred melted and bent out of shape. Not surprisingly the unit was utterly inoperative as he had suspected - what were the chances, fate really was a prize argnu! A local dedicated master repair drone had appeared and was ripping into the totalled systems guts with a small army of detachable helpers. Carl imagined it would soon have at least the prime optical cable socket reinstalled from spares it carried.
‘Well at least I will be able to patch in when that one is finished’ said Sal nodding toward the fully automatic unit while hoisting her computer pad.
‘Don’t forget to let them know where I’ve gone. Good luck!’ said Carl.
‘Be safe’, replied the Tech.
Here I go, Carl thought, - it was typical that he dare not wait any longer on the drones repairs - it was red lit tunnel time, to think he had been dancing at a Ball how long ago? The passage ahead looked far from inviting - being rather smoky - then to add to the fun Carl saw the erratic flash of a wild electric arc shoot through the distant cloud with a terrifying sizzle and crack as it grounded elsewhere, a shower of sparks followed and a puff of extra airborne particles then silence. Carl hearing a servo noise turned - the electrical event had caused the drone to turn one of its heavy duty sensors for a moment as if listening in.
‘More work for you later my metal friend?’ asked Carl rhetorically before looking back.
The smoke channelled by the small blast twirled outward in a rather amusing slow motion vortex pattern that was fascinating both picturesque and hypnotic! Funny how destruction was often quite beautiful, he mused to himself, then he wondered if his team had made it to the Harbour Tower East before the disaster struck. Carl was guessing the culprit was a ruddy big bomb although how anyone had smuggled that onboard - no doubt it would be his fault anyway? Was the timing of the News Cast a coincidence Anna had better have some serious answers. Carl tried to link in using the suit connection to his ear piece…nothing! AF really should have went with independent communicators for at least Security and the Emergency Services instead of everything being linked into the god cursed stations wider communication network it was a cursed corporate credit saving hamstring!
Sal had better be right and the Transport Modules all be shut down or their front sensors and brakes working to extra high efficiency, thought Carl, as he eased carefully off the platform to slap down on to the smooth metal glide path track way. Carl couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he never had been one for idly waiting about. HTE lay towards the earlier explosive arc and the offending modules passage. It was a little slippery but otherwise not hard going partially because he had chosen not to accept one of the few spare rack vacuum suits. The artificial gravity not being broken unlike the COMSYS would have made suit movement deplorably slow.
In the end with the smoke getting denser Carl was forced to pull out an oxygen mask from the rear of his utility belt and strap it over his mouth. By crouching low he got a little extra visibility, but it still wasn’t great this way either. It was also pretty spooky between the smoke and the ruddy light plus every time the station shook and groaned the Commander half expected to find himself facing raw space. In a way it was funny he wondered if Rud was among the casualties - killed perhaps by his supporters - or would he be rescued from the potentially dying or injured station only to be tried and spaced later. All the options seemed like a mockery of common sense. Ahead Carl heard noise clumping footfalls and saw darker shadows of movement - it looked like a party of Marines in heavy armour where had they come from?
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 70 – More Than Mere Statistics
The Transit Module rested on its side at the end of a long train of destruction behind it smoke bellowed, and scattered fires burned fitfully then an explosion occurred with a rumble. The module shook as a billow of hot air rolled past, ‘That can’t be good’, said Elaen, ‘so much for - travel at ease’, she said quoting the old AFC 4 transit module slogan.
‘Nothing’, said Ravn still hanging on to Anna’s link.
‘Sir, can we contact Reaper Alpha or the Grim Reaper or the Troop Transport direct?’ asked Cole.
‘Good point’, said Ravn after all the ships had their own communication systems outside the station net it was just a question of changing the links frequency and hoping the communicators low signal strength could reach through the bulkheads. The Chief tried the RJL frequency first but got nothing - well they were civilian rigs - no surprise there. Rav then tried linking into Fay and got a very weak carrier signal. Well the ear pieces weren’t really designed for this sort of thing. Normally even ship to personnel traffic was bounced through the stations arrays and nodes not accepted direct - still it was worth a try.
‘T-TP-L-alpha-One this is LoneWarden are you receiving over’, asked Ravn.
Silence
‘T-TP-L-alpha-One this is LoneWarden are you receiving over.’
Silence
‘T-TP-L-alpha-One this is LoneWarden are you receiving over.’
Silence
‘It’s no good too much of this stuff between us’, said Ravn knocking against the modules wall.
‘Maybe outside in the Tunnel’, said Anna hopefully, but not really believing it, while reaching out toward her link however, the Chief just pocketed the device.
‘Later Anna not now!’ Rav said firmly, ‘priorities with communications down, we need to get out of this box and find some emergency vacuum suit lockers.’
‘Every Transit Stop has a twenty rack’, said Anna.
‘Sir we have a mobile communications array back at Anna’s office’, reminded Cole.
‘Along with a lot of other very useful stuff’, supplemented Pete.
‘I need to get there too - trust me its essential work for the Federation’, said Anna feeling a bit stupid given how pompous that sounded.
‘No need to panic on the communication front I’m pretty sure I could hack into our guest’, said Cole pointing with a computer pad.
Outside a communications repair drone was moving past spinning out a line of optic cable from its rear as it moved along.
‘That’s convenient’, said Ravn feeling a little overly suspicious.
‘Just because I’m Paranoid’, said Elaen pulling out the Brek and Tyrell to break a seal and pull the emergency exit activator.
‘I always liked the Grief maker’, said Pax as the modules front windscreen sprung to the side.
‘It’s the Lost for Words Sir.’
‘Captain Evans how does it look from your end?’ asked Fay from her Operations Room on the Troop Transport.
‘Sir, AFC 4 is in motion with an extreme sheer risk. I would suggest you GTD to safety now. The necessary action really is too delicate an operation for rash tractor beams but we have to try’, noted Evans.
‘Just do it!’ screamed out Fay as she watched the patched in horror of the external view. The picture the Lost for Words was providing showed buckling along the stations two elongated arms as the complex was ever so slowly twisting. A beam lashed out from somewhere off shot shifting through the spectrum to go green as it locked tight. They all felt the wrenching vibration and heard more horrible structural groans and creeks. More debris broke loose from the stations skin into the void, new cracks appeared others widened further plumes vented but the overall station seemed to be holding true. It didn’t feel real it was like watching some disaster PVR - how could they be sitting so calmly inside the tattered subject of that image?
‘Fek me!’, said Fay, ‘I could use a drink. What’s the readings now Captain?’
‘Still borderline fatal Sir’, explained Evans, ‘I would still advocate immediate evacuation. AFC 4 might hold together permanently or start breaking apart at any moment there are just too many variables. Based on our simulations if she starts to go chances are she will go fast in a rapidly increasing chain reaction Sir!’
‘I still have a vital operation running on board Captain’, said Fay, ‘bring some rescue ships into transport range and keep us locked on and ready to go. I can’t abandon this mission early - too much is at stake!’
‘Sir, you might like to know we received a broadcast of responsibility from some independent loon. We’re looking into it!’ said Evans.
‘Fine, any clear and present danger’, asked Fay.
‘Sir if it was this Ishchi freak I think he has played his hand’, said the Captain, ‘but the call could just be a cover or misinformation for a wider operation or a more nefarious group.’
‘Let’s hope it’s not, but keep those scanners on and focused’, returned Fay.
‘Sir what about the LFW doing evacuation support’, asked Evans, ‘also the fleet is incoming.’
‘Too risky also tell them to stay clear, demand it damn it, I take full responsibility’, said Fay, ‘too many cooks and the waters here are muddy enough. I want the Lightning Spears in here crashing this party - full kit - as soon as we can get this cursed Bay door open that’s all!’
‘Sir one other matter have you seen the news?’ asked Evans.
‘The News?’, repeated Fay.
‘I’m downloading the broadcast Sir I believe it might be of interest’, said the Captain.
‘Patch incoming signal to my screen Sage’, said Fay watching the news item with an incredulous stare, ‘The devious fekker, operations anything from Ravn or Anna’
‘Nothing yet Sir’, came the reply.
‘Do we still have a fix?’ asked Fay
‘Yes Sir, we still have the dogs scent’, replied the Marine.
‘How is Siidan doing?’ questioned the Commander in Chief.
‘Hacking through bulkheads, but they should breach the module tunnel network any segment now’, noted the Operations Officer.
It will be a miracle is this doesn’t get bloody, thought Fay to herself, ‘I want that cursed door open! Tell the bay team if its safe and necessary to blast it - hell just tell them to do it - as soon as - or ill rip them out of their precious suits and throw them out the door myself’, shouted Fay.
The Commander was forced to use his senior security code to temporarily override the doors lockdown. As Carl impatiently ducked in under the rising obstacle two other figures almost knocked him aside in their haste to get out - angry at this treatment - Carl shouted out, ‘Hey where do you…’, but he could hear them running off as the door commenced to reseal now behind him, fools they would just be locked within the next closed sector. This minor distraction only held off the horrid (unfortunately not unfamiliar) scent for an instant then it drove home churning his stomach - burnt flesh and ozone - a bad combination on any station or ship. The stench hastily combined with another blow to his joy this time an angry crowd sound - over a background wailing scream - a fine presage of doom.
The Commander was quickly mobbed by a tight group - mostly walking wounded - with scorched dirty and damaged clothing alongside visible minor cuts abrasions and burns. The echoed mixing of: loud shouts, queries, explanations, and demands made them all but incomprehensible. One aggressive individual who looked physically intact yelled for Carl to open the fekkin door and tried to roughly grab the Security Commander by the front of his tactical jacket. Carl moved instantly almost without thinking to restrain the aggressor with a simple self defence move that saw the perpetrator face down with one arm and hand twisted backwards and up. Putting a little angry pressure on - the man groaned but stayed still on his knees sweating. Carl pulled his weapon, ‘AF Commander of Police, back up and calm down’, he yelled pushing the Argon gently forward and letting him go so that he sprawled face first to the deck with a curse.
Relative silence descended and a little space was made - Carl could however still hear bawling in the background it sounded like a very distraught child - then one voice cut through that unpleasant siren and the more restrained murmurs. It was a strident female voice full of anger and authority, ‘Fekkin selfish pack rats let the Commander through to the one person that needs him most’, said the female.
By her uniform the big no nonsense type woman was an AFC 4 maintenance tech - one of the new batch that came with the reshuffle, Carl guessed, not really recognising her face.
‘This way Commander - please hurry - names Sal, sorry about these yapping puppies’, yelled the tech glaring at the mob, ‘I tried to stop them, but the fragment was hot and still burning. They pulled it out and now no one can stop the bleed! I heard you lot have some basic medical training. We’ve already cracked this stops Medic Pack and given Hern a dose for the pain but he didn‘t stop screaming till he passed out’, bellowed the Tech, ‘That’s his wife Marin over there cuddling the crying four year old Joan and the strapping teenager that looks like he is in shock is Hern’s son Olaf.’
Carl winced - everyone was shouting - a common side effect caused by being too near a loud explosion (they were all suffering from temporary or maybe permanently damaged hearing and overcompensating). Approaching the patient Carl passed a few roughly covered bodies before he reached Hern. Somebody was applying pressure trying to stem a tidal arterial flow from a rip in the Argons thigh a little down from the groin area. Carl could see it was already too late the unfortunates body was almost blue (under his white torch light) a lake of dampness spread out from underneath. The Commander couldn’t help but notice the smears and occasional almost too perfect footprint even under the red light beyond his narrow beam.
It was totally in vain, however, in front of the victims despairing family the Commander couldn’t just let it go - he felt it was a necessity to try but hated himself for giving out any false impression of hope. Quickly wiping his hands under the portable steriliser unit Carl grabbed a clamp and dug in. Fatefully the Commanders inept attempts to seal the slippery badly damaged artery didn’t have to go on for too long Hern just slipped away and stopped breathing, it was over!
‘I’m sorry’, said Carl.
‘So am I', whispered Sal, 'I think I knew it was useless but I just couldn’t ignore…’, tears welled up in her eyes and she turned around gave a big sniff wiped her face with a meaty palm and straightened up, ‘Sorry again so what happens now?’
Carl looked over the expectant crowd, ‘Everybody listen’, he shouted waiting for the people to quieten and gather in, ‘I’m sure you all know the main communication network is down, and I can see that you have lost the DLC-COMSYS Information panel here - to a localised explosion! Luckily from what I can see the main force of this blast must have channelled up and down the tunnel rather that laterally through the bulkhead.’
‘I think it was the emergency oxygen tank refill store that went up’ explained the tech, ‘there was an out of control transit module it sped right through here colliding with the tubes walls spraying hot debris and sparks somehow it’s passage must have set off the tank. The five fatalities were all close to the connection interfaces reading or waiting to read the Panel.’
‘That makes sense unfortunately it means this area is pretty much incommunicado for the moment with even the Direct Line down', noted carl, 'However, you also know that we have very specific drills and procedures for every emergency. You are not locked in here by accident it is by design. Remember this - when a way is clear you will be contacted and guided out even if it is done via a roving Drone. If I opened the door you would just be penned up in another sealed section - maybe with even less resources to hand - further any likely nasty surprises in this immediate area here have probably happened already! The ICCS will be mapping out viable routes calculating congestion issues and more picky logistical details than I can possibly imagine.’
‘You could guide us out’, said one hopeful voice.
‘I can just unlock doors', said the commander, 'but I have no more idea of a safe route out than the next person. I could be leading you all into danger or foul up the overall evacuation plan. Look if there are undamaged vacuum suits here on the racks hand them out otherwise pull together and hang in here for the word from the Automated Crisis Management Routine - it will come. I have an emergency of my own to deal with, and believe me I’m not even sure I want to go that direction myself!’
‘So we just sit and wait to die!’ complained one woman.
‘Well you can wait to die if you want’, replied Sal, ‘I plan to survive and get out. I’ve been in a few scrapes in my time - survival is often a question of the right attitude Miss! Where are you going Commander?’
‘Down there he pointed into the smoke filled tunnel’, said Carl.
‘Do you need a hand?’, asked Sal.
‘Yeah you can try and keep this lot from committing suicide’, said the Commander.
‘I think I’d almost rather go with you even down there’, smiled the Tech.
‘I take it no more modules will come through here anytime soon?’ questioned Carl.
‘I would say not’, noted Sal, ’if I judge it right this is a full emergency shut down! What happened here indicates the sort of dangers likely associated with running fast transit systems on a station either under attack or damaged - it is a standard practice to cut all such operations. However, I have seen a few fires and flares down there so even without getting run over that's no walk in the park.’
‘Listen I’m going to use my authority to feed in a special pass code to the door so you can open it to the next section… in an emergency! The code will only work on this door. I’m doing this just in case this tunnels sealed section gets a breach or a wider fire before help arrives' said Carl, 'Keep everyone close to the exit but don’t pop it unless you have too, and get them through quickly then let it reseal. Only if necessary mind, if you lot shift around or separate it might just make rescuing you that much harder’, noted the Commander, ‘come with me and ill tell you the alpha numeric.’
‘Fine’, said Sal.
A little alter Carl double checked the Transit Module Stations normally sturdy DLC-COMSYS Information Panel half of it was blown away the rest charred melted and bent out of shape. Not surprisingly the unit was utterly inoperative as he had suspected - what were the chances, fate really was a prize argnu! A local dedicated master repair drone had appeared and was ripping into the totalled systems guts with a small army of detachable helpers. Carl imagined it would soon have at least the prime optical cable socket reinstalled from spares it carried.
‘Well at least I will be able to patch in when that one is finished’ said Sal nodding toward the fully automatic unit while hoisting her computer pad.
‘Don’t forget to let them know where I’ve gone. Good luck!’ said Carl.
‘Be safe’, replied the Tech.
Here I go, Carl thought, - it was typical that he dare not wait any longer on the drones repairs - it was red lit tunnel time, to think he had been dancing at a Ball how long ago? The passage ahead looked far from inviting - being rather smoky - then to add to the fun Carl saw the erratic flash of a wild electric arc shoot through the distant cloud with a terrifying sizzle and crack as it grounded elsewhere, a shower of sparks followed and a puff of extra airborne particles then silence. Carl hearing a servo noise turned - the electrical event had caused the drone to turn one of its heavy duty sensors for a moment as if listening in.
‘More work for you later my metal friend?’ asked Carl rhetorically before looking back.
The smoke channelled by the small blast twirled outward in a rather amusing slow motion vortex pattern that was fascinating both picturesque and hypnotic! Funny how destruction was often quite beautiful, he mused to himself, then he wondered if his team had made it to the Harbour Tower East before the disaster struck. Carl was guessing the culprit was a ruddy big bomb although how anyone had smuggled that onboard - no doubt it would be his fault anyway? Was the timing of the News Cast a coincidence Anna had better have some serious answers. Carl tried to link in using the suit connection to his ear piece…nothing! AF really should have went with independent communicators for at least Security and the Emergency Services instead of everything being linked into the god cursed stations wider communication network it was a cursed corporate credit saving hamstring!
Sal had better be right and the Transport Modules all be shut down or their front sensors and brakes working to extra high efficiency, thought Carl, as he eased carefully off the platform to slap down on to the smooth metal glide path track way. Carl couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he never had been one for idly waiting about. HTE lay towards the earlier explosive arc and the offending modules passage. It was a little slippery but otherwise not hard going partially because he had chosen not to accept one of the few spare rack vacuum suits. The artificial gravity not being broken unlike the COMSYS would have made suit movement deplorably slow.
In the end with the smoke getting denser Carl was forced to pull out an oxygen mask from the rear of his utility belt and strap it over his mouth. By crouching low he got a little extra visibility, but it still wasn’t great this way either. It was also pretty spooky between the smoke and the ruddy light plus every time the station shook and groaned the Commander half expected to find himself facing raw space. In a way it was funny he wondered if Rud was among the casualties - killed perhaps by his supporters - or would he be rescued from the potentially dying or injured station only to be tried and spaced later. All the options seemed like a mockery of common sense. Ahead Carl heard noise clumping footfalls and saw darker shadows of movement - it looked like a party of Marines in heavy armour where had they come from?
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Mon, 29. Oct 07, 12:26, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 71 – Tactical Pursuits
In the end getting through the remotely sealed door using his command level codes proved easy for Administrator Gregor. The ICCS gave no resistance to the mere temporary breaching of the precaution since the two areas had no immediate pressure differential, fires or other causes of concern beyond the need to control and direct future foot traffic! Nonetheless, once inside the court Gregor noticed a profound difference in the prevailing atmosphere. Within everybody was far more composed and relaxed suited up and making ready to depart via an expected evacuation cascade to the nearest suitable airlock. To the Administrator it demonstrated the difference made by having available communications during the developing crisis - in this instance the working Information Panels and the DLC-COMSYS plugs and links
‘This is much more satisfactory I was beginning to fear our procedures were inadequate!’ said Jollo calmly as if discussing a simple drill exercise rather than a deadly serious evacuation in progress!
‘Whatever is messing with the main net is the problem beast - if we can slay that one - everything should go by the numbers. The DLC-COMSYS as a backup should work too, but will be by necessity slower and less sure in its coverage!’ complained Gregor as he noticed several figures moving towards them, ‘Jollo would you explain to the locals here our intentions while I patch into the CAO via the COM-SYS and get a full situation report!’
Acting Helmsman Ghia was far happier after speaking with Gregor, especially since she knew the Stations communications network was well on the way to being re-established. It was also good to know that the evacuation via info panel and bulkhead door cascades was currently ongoing! Another boon was the knowledge that the sheer factor was stabilised by a for once timely intervention by the Argon Navy. Admittedly Dan was still panicky about the Stations spiking structural stress levels but Ghia was almost getting blaze about this. The young Manager had decided to tell herself that AFC 4 would hold together - at least long enough to get everyone off. Sometimes you just had to take matters on faith as there was no sane alternative!
Garrion’s four Argon rescue party had decided on an alternative route. Having no easy means to negotiate all the emergency bulkhead doors and hatches they planned to go EVA. Suited up the band cycled out of a still operative small docking bay airlock. Soon the group was skimming over the tattered surface of the stations scabbed skin. Reaper Jump Liners Team Two were in civilian vacuum suits but were lugging some serious gear hidden in two massive Argon sized auto transit boxes - borrowed - from the docking bay! Each of the metal cases was stuffed to the max, luckily in zero gravity weight wasn‘t a concern while on station the cases were equipped with easily activated suspensor fields due to this functionality they were a couple of handily appropriated assets! The Rescue squad members each held one handle of a box as they drifted along in two formations of two with the cases sandwiched between them. G with Dell, Rutger with Alex. Being outside gave a shocking perspective on the crisis. Garrin hadn’t been sure what to expect but somehow things looked a lot worse out here! Everyone had gone quiet as soon as they hit the dark - silence had seemed not merely appropriate but almost an enforced necessity of the situations grave nature - it was hard to take it all in.
Some especially noticeable specific damage done to the station included: AFC 4’s blatantly marred symmetry, its ragged surface, occasionally exposed superstructure, debris fields, spilled crates and the odd weak still venting plume of gas. G couldn’t help himself from considering some of the salvage potential here - even though it already felt like his home had been ransacked by messy villains. Did some of those massive crates contain expensive items such as capitol ship weaponry? he wondered, or just raw materials and lots of energy cells.
When would the scavengers start arriving? Questioned the Courier to himself, the opportunistic scum that always appeared where there was wreckage to loot. G hoped the presence of an Argon Navy fleet would manage to keep the worst of these villains away. Under these conditions - even an honest salvage operation - seemed more like grave robbing! Garrin could hardly believe the whole Harbour Tower West was gone. The RJL partner guessed his third favourite vacuum suit had no doubt been destroyed with it - since it had been left in to be serviced by SpaceGear! Then he felt a stab of guilt at thinking about mere property what about the old technician Abek and the rather cute receptionist Shannon where they among the dead? Fek! That really brought it home, G could see Shannon in his minds eye tittering away behind a graceful hand (trying beyond reason to disguise her mirth) while old Abek flirted shamelessly. The old spacer technician got away with some outrageous comments simply because of his advancing years and the general label of being harmless. Garrin wasn’t always totally convinced by Abek’s act of being toothless, but he had to admit the old scumbag was damn funny! Fek he had always enjoyed dropping in there for suit repairs and check ups - it never felt like a chore!
G didn’t trust many people to mess with his vacuum suit other than himself! SpaceGear had been a good operation decent pricing structure too. Paranidia they were probably all gone: Shannon, Abek, Trin, Winston, the security guard McMannis plus all the faces he didn’t know the names of fekkin hell maybe even that kid that used to run their errands what was it they had nicknamed him… ByeFly because of the way he always waved in to the girls - all dead? To his own surprise G found he had a little water in his eyes - it just wasn’t fair or right, what had those people done to deserve this casual obliteration?
With so much to see and think about - the journey went swiftly for the four man team. Soon the party neared a suitable evacuation airlock within the specific section they had sought (very close to the Harbour Tower East). Garrin found himself watching as another batch of the individuals that formed the nearest regulated exodus of vacuum suited refugees exited the station. The evacuees joining a line of their fellows moving steadily toward a knot of other floating figures that mingled inside a flashing beacon marked staging area.
Garrin had to admit the RJL Team Two’s plan was a cunning one: They would cycle into the station on the return function of the airlock. It was just a question of timing being ready to float in following the exit of the next bunch of the crippled stations fleeing population. If they were lucky once onboard they might even be able to backtrack through the facility via flowing counter directional to the ongoing rescue cascade through the internal bulkheads. If RJL T2 could find the right channel getting within a reasonably close proximity of their friends would be a walk in the park. Only after using this strategy to its logistical limit would they finally be required to force their own way forward by more direct means.
The overall plan had been devised by Chin and Garrin was well impressed with the concept so far. Although G was fully expecting the unexpected fortunately it also seemed his guards were just as paranoid and had managed to pack something for most eventualities. Once inside Dell cracked open the hijacked floating metal trunks. Despite their entry causing a little confusion from those very happy to be leaving Garrin and his fellow would be rescuers were given a wide berth and were soon too busy to notice the stares as they kitting themselves up for their effort. To Garrin’s surprise this included being slapped into a full suit of light combat armour and being handed an effective looking carbine.
‘Just in case’, explained Dell, ’sometimes the best form of defence is attack. Situations like this can get very fluid - desperate people can do desperate and unexpected things! Safety here, magazine eject like so, reload thus, activate the scope like this, zoom function, infra red, ultra violet, motion detector, return to standard vision, this selector gives single shot or semi auto four shot bursts, velocity dial here markings in the red should penetrate armour, but are not station safe - please use that with care!’
‘Err thanks!’, said Garrin wondering what he was getting himself into.
Dell looked at some of the other gear and carefully selected some very specific grenades out of a wide variety, ‘These two you can use, these are smokers used to create cover, these are stun grenades they make a bright flash and a very loud noise but won’t do any physical damage to the station. However, be careful you don’t want to deafen or blind yourself or any of us OK!’
‘Right what are those others?’ asked G.
‘Very dangerous somewhere like this’, said Dell storing several of the small devices upon his person but giving none to G, ‘here take this transport fix badge, knife and basic medical kit. Your visor mask includes a filter and short term oxygen supply replaced here with these he showed how the spare tiny tanks were replaced. Unit communications are via voice commands using the visor HUD options also activated here he flipped open a control panel on the inside of G‘s left wrist. You can link your gun up to the head up display via this suit cable like so and see what your sight sees. Try it out handy for not foolishly sticking your head around that corner.’
‘Cool’, said Garrin waving the gun about and watching the site image zooming in and out and trying out the modes.
‘Right this is your share of the dead weight the packs are suspensor assisted adjust the lift here until it is very light but - trust me - not a positive lifting value. It clips on and detaches so via snap on and quick release’, lectured Dell.
‘Fek’, said Garrin thinking this stuff is pretty neat. It was difficult not to feel kind of invulnerable - it was a bit exciting - a little like playing soldiers when you were a child but with real gear.
Dell gave G an appraising stare sensing his mood, ‘Look Garrin just remember this is serious (even with all this stuff if at all possible we don’t want to get into a fight, in fights people get killed and - the people - since you are a rookie is likely to be you!)’, warned Dell.
‘Thanks!’ said Garrin, ‘I really needed to know that!’
‘Believe me’, said Dell, ‘you really do!’
‘So am I chasing this mechanical beastie or what’, said Cole temporarily unclipping one side of his breather mask.
‘No forget it’, said Ravn, ‘I think it would be better to press on. The line must be live up ahead we can patch in there if needed. This tunnel could breach with all these fires, explosions and rumbles lets get out as soon as possible. Anna the map!’
Aye captain, thought Anna sarcastically pulling out her computer pad she was still angry at having her link confiscated as if she couldn‘t be trusted, ‘Luckily’, the RJL Administrator replied having removed her own mask (the one she had liberated from the transit module), ‘this map has an auto position finding function - damn - well it did when the net was up!’ grumbled the Station Runner, as she sat down for fresher air - no longer quite so impressed with the wonderful technology - as she searched through the hard way, ‘I think we must be… here yep - wait no! One moment that’s the other side… hmmm this seems to agree with this sections serial numbers. Damn, that’s another major bulkhead just up ahead behind the cover of this hell spawned smoke’, she spluttered rising again to show everyone, ‘that barrier’, cough, ‘is sure to be down. What about the maintenance exit here’, spit, ‘look it leads round and into Harbour Tower East’, cough, cough, ‘fek following the service line power cables. According to the walk through one person wide most of the way with good head height’, said Anna pausing to take a breath through her mask before continuing, ‘A few ladders down there, and a couple more up here, but since we are equipment light that shouldn‘t stop us.’
‘Hey nice map Anna, something you forgot to give back to AF was it?’ asked Pete hollowly through his helmet visor and mask noticing the very prominent logo on the software.
‘Something…’ cough, ‘like that’, said the former AF PA, ‘damn this stuff is getting to my throat’, she complained replacing the mask.
‘Right that plan looks good, detail to the hatch as follows: myself as advanced point / scout then Pax front, Anna in the middle Pete left Cole right Elaen Rear Guard’, said Rav, Anna noticed unlike herself the smoke hardly seemed to bother the fekker at all, ‘As fast as you can, but watch out this flooring is slippery!’ finished the Chief.
‘Surfs up’, shouted Pete through his mask and visor running a few steps then sliding along a few meters before slipping backwards and landing hard on his rear.
‘I swear Pete you start messing about and I’ll lay one on you’, said Cole angrily hawking up and spitting out an unpleasant tasting mouth full.
‘You and whose army’, came a muffled reply followed by odd laughter from the joker as he starting to get up only to be roughly hoisted by the helmet.
‘That tapping against your groin is what is known as a fekkin big combat knife. Mess about under my command in the field and it will be getting intimate with your - I imagine at the moment hastily shrinking manhood - understand!’ whispered Ravn up close to the Dogs face.
‘Yes sir’, mumbled Pete resentfully.
‘Good because this isn’t a joy ride and if you mess up the only thing you will be surfing is a floating medical unit into an infirmary or the local morgue. NOW GET INTO FORMATION YOU LITTLE FEKKER!’ screamed Ravn at the Dog.
A little earlier Sven’s so called Marines were making use of a copy of Anna’s trace. The signature had been analysed from a detailed close up scan. The information taken by a system hidden within the Revenant of the Eighteen Billion’s supposedly merely decorative - mechanical - breastplate at the Grim Reaper and His Multitude of Victims Ball. It had been a fair guess by the Admiral that the Professor would be tagged for extraction and that it might not be changed for a while. As much as using a GTD to transport the female out would have made life easier for Sven he had to abide by the overall rules of his own game. Anna was to be physically arrested - the more openly the better! Of course no plan of action ever completely survives first contact with the enemy and therefore Sven’s questionable Navy Marines found themselves in pursuit of a crashed Transit Module on a dangerously damaged complex.
At the moment, thought The Mastery, it didn’t look too good in relation to likely civilian witnesses to their heroic arrest - if they managed to catch up with their quarry, but you never fully know in these situations! The Mastery wasn’t very happy nursing a bunch of ingrates along, serving warrants and taking prisoners wasn’t really his line of business, but he just couldn’t say no to the Admiral!
‘To Hell with this’, complained Laughing Boy as the chute shook and they neared another seal, ‘We should be forcibly extracting - ourselves - from this wobbly tin can.’
‘Yeah, well are you volunteering to go back and explain failure to The Open Eye’, said Darkman.
‘Hell we could just go find a GTD whisk the Target out then arrest her’, said Headshot, ‘clean and simple.’
‘Maybe and maybe not’, said The Mastery halting, ‘what if this trace has been passed on to somebody else - perhaps we nab one of Fay’s bad boys - that just wouldn’t be polite’, explained The Mastery, ‘besides we have a warrant it’s all official for once even if we technically are not, so no need for sinister and sneaky!’
‘When wasn’t one of the Eyes jobs sneaky. I thought sneaky was what we got paid for? If we are getting all big and bold why didn’t we just go to the Harbour Tower East and wait instead of squirming around in here like a wiggle of worms? These Penal Boys don’t scare me, they all got caught you know - besides I heard it is just Black Dogs - what are they Navy Engineers? What are they going to do drop an A frame on us?’ said Argumentative.
‘Black Dogs, engineers, more like demolitions experts! A right bunch of nuts infamous for cuddling up with pretty shaped charges - no I don’t think just transporting in the body tied to the trace - is a good idea’, noted The Mastery, ‘as to waiting at the tower, not much point in doing that if our target is trapped down here, gets accidentally spaced, or meets with some other calamity the Eye wants her intact!’
‘You think these Dogs will be trouble?’ asked Bad Day.
‘Just hide behind Fat Lad, Bad Day’, said Cool By Me.
‘Hell we should all get tight behind the big guy if hot metal starts flying’, said Rubber Neck.
‘Why is it - stunted runts - are so nasty mouthed?’, questioned Fat Lad, ‘this is all hard earned muscle the only muscle you guys use is your wagging tongues.’
‘M, I think we should break in here. According to my pad we should be within the main transit section where Anna’s trace is, there is no need to work through more of these sealed subsection safety hatches’, explained Rubber Neck.
‘Ok then well cut out here and drop using cables’, said The Mastery.
‘About fekkin time I swear I was starting to get claustrophobia in here’, panted Fat Lad.
‘Never! You just thought you were going to get jammed, and we would have to cut you up to get past’, said Rubber Neck.
‘Right that’s enough! Stop the chatter! Lock and load I want this by the numbers. Just remember Fay and the Legion are mixed in with this one - and they don’t play by anybodies rules - they have a habit of erring on the side of collateral damage!’, said The Mastery.
Who doesn’t these days, thought Argumentative thinking M was starting to believe he really was a full time Navy Boy instead of a crazy killer in a doggie suit.
A little later they dropped through the gap two at a time like armoured spiders.
‘Ssssmokey’, said Rubber Neck doing his Teladi voice as he looked around in the clouded tunnel.
‘Button it and don’t forget to watch the rear’, said M.
‘Yess Massstery’, said RN.
Damn fool, thought The Mastery, gesturing Cool By Me and Darkman forward with exaggerated hand and arm movement battle signs - visibility wasn’t good. A lot of heat too when he tried a little infra red via his scope. What was he doing with these brutal clods wondered the deadly assassin.
Carl was about to jog forward and make contact with the Marines when he ducked and flopped flat on his belly. Something was wrong it was the pattern of deployment by the Argon Marines up ahead. The soldiers were moving forward tactically covering each other with fields of fire before advancing in stages. Three shadowed partially obscured figures also turned and commenced to act as a rear guard sweeping the area behind them Carl felt very exposed despite the poor visibility.
Why would a search and rescue party be deployed as if expecting serious combat resistance? Maybe they were here for Anna if so how dangerous did they think she was, or was it possible these Marines were not what they seemed and if not then what were they Argon Terrorists? Mercenary traitors in the pay of the Split? The Commander couldn’t think of a better disguise than full AN armour including helmet. If AFC 4’s shield was down (quite possible given the apparent level of damage) they could even have used a GTD to get right into the station although that would be dangerous without a beacon link or deep scan.
As matters stood the Commander didn’t believe in too many coincidences. Maybe Anna was in that wild Transit Module ride if so Carl hoped she was alright. The Copper pulled his hand weapon and muttered a curse - it was hardly enough for this job - nonetheless he ejected the magazine and replaced it with another this one marked with a label on its base a small red square. If these guys were hostile he was going to need every edge he could get - legal or illegal! Carl prayed for the Communications network to come back on soon, he didn’t fancy his chances against this full squad carefully he squirmed along behind on his belly!
Siidan waited patiently as HarpsArgon hacked the last door. The teams computer jock was getting faster with every consecutive emergency bulkhead door he tackled. With the way open BlackAce and the lighter armoured Knot slipped under first - acting as scout, and scouts support.
‘Looks like the rest of the survivors are still here Sir, pretty much as described’, reported Knot followed by a period of silence then, ‘they have one extra fatality the seriously wounded dude didn‘t make it. I can see evidence of the localised explosion the DLC is being repaired by drone, area looks secure.’
‘OK’, said Siidan, ‘let’s go not so far now.’
‘Sir’, said Riddle checking his tracking scanner, ‘they seem to be moving around more.’
‘Why is nothing ever straight forward’, complained Siidan.
‘No. I’m sorry miss’, replied BlackAce, ‘we are here on a rather pressing security matter not evacuation duty I’m afraid’, he explained.
‘Fine I suppose we can wait a bit longer. I’m guessing you’re the Commanders back up team then’, said Sal, ‘Carl said to let you lot know that he went on down the track. Being in a hurry he couldn’t wait on the re-establishment of the COMSYS.’
‘That would be the AFC 4 Police Commander?’ asked BlackAce.
‘Er… yes’, replied Sal surprised then mildly concerned.
‘Siidan, Commander Carl is down here, guess that explains who let our two singing birds out of the cage! The Copper has gone on down the tracks’, explained BA.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Moulin.
‘It means we double time after’, said Siidan as far as the LoD squad leader was concerned if the Copper got in the way he would just be collateral damage: Accidents even friendly fire incidents in this sort of situation were far from uncommon - especially when full communications were down! Fay had stressed the utmost importance of this operation. Siidan was to arrest and retrieve Anna intact at any cost! Besides being on this dying station was making him agitated - dropping somebody, thought Siidan, would cool him down nicely.
Siidan gestured them all past and over the edge Knot first in his light scout armour followed by BlackAce soon scanning with his carbine then HarpsArgon doing the same then Moulin fiddling with her helmet light while hoisting her weapon other handed then Log oddly fluid in his bulky servo assisted armour with its built on automatic light support weapon cradle then Killer with his sniper rifle slapped back atop one shoulder. Riddle somehow negotiated the obstacle with one eye still seemingly checking his scanner. Siidan brought up the rear.
A few fires were still burning and the tunnel was filled with smoke, ‘Welcome to the road to Hell’, said Knot crouching low as he moved along with a sure footed grace.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this one’, said BlackAce.
‘I think the trace is moving on further away down the tunnel’, said Riddle.
‘Move it Knot as fast as you can while staying safe we will keep up’, said Siidan.
‘Acknowledged’, replied Knot.
[On behalf of P66 Plu Dup politely requests that comments are put in new comment thread (you can vote there too) this Boron thanks you for your cooperation.]
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 71 – Tactical Pursuits
In the end getting through the remotely sealed door using his command level codes proved easy for Administrator Gregor. The ICCS gave no resistance to the mere temporary breaching of the precaution since the two areas had no immediate pressure differential, fires or other causes of concern beyond the need to control and direct future foot traffic! Nonetheless, once inside the court Gregor noticed a profound difference in the prevailing atmosphere. Within everybody was far more composed and relaxed suited up and making ready to depart via an expected evacuation cascade to the nearest suitable airlock. To the Administrator it demonstrated the difference made by having available communications during the developing crisis - in this instance the working Information Panels and the DLC-COMSYS plugs and links
‘This is much more satisfactory I was beginning to fear our procedures were inadequate!’ said Jollo calmly as if discussing a simple drill exercise rather than a deadly serious evacuation in progress!
‘Whatever is messing with the main net is the problem beast - if we can slay that one - everything should go by the numbers. The DLC-COMSYS as a backup should work too, but will be by necessity slower and less sure in its coverage!’ complained Gregor as he noticed several figures moving towards them, ‘Jollo would you explain to the locals here our intentions while I patch into the CAO via the COM-SYS and get a full situation report!’
Acting Helmsman Ghia was far happier after speaking with Gregor, especially since she knew the Stations communications network was well on the way to being re-established. It was also good to know that the evacuation via info panel and bulkhead door cascades was currently ongoing! Another boon was the knowledge that the sheer factor was stabilised by a for once timely intervention by the Argon Navy. Admittedly Dan was still panicky about the Stations spiking structural stress levels but Ghia was almost getting blaze about this. The young Manager had decided to tell herself that AFC 4 would hold together - at least long enough to get everyone off. Sometimes you just had to take matters on faith as there was no sane alternative!
Garrion’s four Argon rescue party had decided on an alternative route. Having no easy means to negotiate all the emergency bulkhead doors and hatches they planned to go EVA. Suited up the band cycled out of a still operative small docking bay airlock. Soon the group was skimming over the tattered surface of the stations scabbed skin. Reaper Jump Liners Team Two were in civilian vacuum suits but were lugging some serious gear hidden in two massive Argon sized auto transit boxes - borrowed - from the docking bay! Each of the metal cases was stuffed to the max, luckily in zero gravity weight wasn‘t a concern while on station the cases were equipped with easily activated suspensor fields due to this functionality they were a couple of handily appropriated assets! The Rescue squad members each held one handle of a box as they drifted along in two formations of two with the cases sandwiched between them. G with Dell, Rutger with Alex. Being outside gave a shocking perspective on the crisis. Garrin hadn’t been sure what to expect but somehow things looked a lot worse out here! Everyone had gone quiet as soon as they hit the dark - silence had seemed not merely appropriate but almost an enforced necessity of the situations grave nature - it was hard to take it all in.
Some especially noticeable specific damage done to the station included: AFC 4’s blatantly marred symmetry, its ragged surface, occasionally exposed superstructure, debris fields, spilled crates and the odd weak still venting plume of gas. G couldn’t help himself from considering some of the salvage potential here - even though it already felt like his home had been ransacked by messy villains. Did some of those massive crates contain expensive items such as capitol ship weaponry? he wondered, or just raw materials and lots of energy cells.
When would the scavengers start arriving? Questioned the Courier to himself, the opportunistic scum that always appeared where there was wreckage to loot. G hoped the presence of an Argon Navy fleet would manage to keep the worst of these villains away. Under these conditions - even an honest salvage operation - seemed more like grave robbing! Garrin could hardly believe the whole Harbour Tower West was gone. The RJL partner guessed his third favourite vacuum suit had no doubt been destroyed with it - since it had been left in to be serviced by SpaceGear! Then he felt a stab of guilt at thinking about mere property what about the old technician Abek and the rather cute receptionist Shannon where they among the dead? Fek! That really brought it home, G could see Shannon in his minds eye tittering away behind a graceful hand (trying beyond reason to disguise her mirth) while old Abek flirted shamelessly. The old spacer technician got away with some outrageous comments simply because of his advancing years and the general label of being harmless. Garrin wasn’t always totally convinced by Abek’s act of being toothless, but he had to admit the old scumbag was damn funny! Fek he had always enjoyed dropping in there for suit repairs and check ups - it never felt like a chore!
G didn’t trust many people to mess with his vacuum suit other than himself! SpaceGear had been a good operation decent pricing structure too. Paranidia they were probably all gone: Shannon, Abek, Trin, Winston, the security guard McMannis plus all the faces he didn’t know the names of fekkin hell maybe even that kid that used to run their errands what was it they had nicknamed him… ByeFly because of the way he always waved in to the girls - all dead? To his own surprise G found he had a little water in his eyes - it just wasn’t fair or right, what had those people done to deserve this casual obliteration?
With so much to see and think about - the journey went swiftly for the four man team. Soon the party neared a suitable evacuation airlock within the specific section they had sought (very close to the Harbour Tower East). Garrin found himself watching as another batch of the individuals that formed the nearest regulated exodus of vacuum suited refugees exited the station. The evacuees joining a line of their fellows moving steadily toward a knot of other floating figures that mingled inside a flashing beacon marked staging area.
Garrin had to admit the RJL Team Two’s plan was a cunning one: They would cycle into the station on the return function of the airlock. It was just a question of timing being ready to float in following the exit of the next bunch of the crippled stations fleeing population. If they were lucky once onboard they might even be able to backtrack through the facility via flowing counter directional to the ongoing rescue cascade through the internal bulkheads. If RJL T2 could find the right channel getting within a reasonably close proximity of their friends would be a walk in the park. Only after using this strategy to its logistical limit would they finally be required to force their own way forward by more direct means.
The overall plan had been devised by Chin and Garrin was well impressed with the concept so far. Although G was fully expecting the unexpected fortunately it also seemed his guards were just as paranoid and had managed to pack something for most eventualities. Once inside Dell cracked open the hijacked floating metal trunks. Despite their entry causing a little confusion from those very happy to be leaving Garrin and his fellow would be rescuers were given a wide berth and were soon too busy to notice the stares as they kitting themselves up for their effort. To Garrin’s surprise this included being slapped into a full suit of light combat armour and being handed an effective looking carbine.
‘Just in case’, explained Dell, ’sometimes the best form of defence is attack. Situations like this can get very fluid - desperate people can do desperate and unexpected things! Safety here, magazine eject like so, reload thus, activate the scope like this, zoom function, infra red, ultra violet, motion detector, return to standard vision, this selector gives single shot or semi auto four shot bursts, velocity dial here markings in the red should penetrate armour, but are not station safe - please use that with care!’
‘Err thanks!’, said Garrin wondering what he was getting himself into.
Dell looked at some of the other gear and carefully selected some very specific grenades out of a wide variety, ‘These two you can use, these are smokers used to create cover, these are stun grenades they make a bright flash and a very loud noise but won’t do any physical damage to the station. However, be careful you don’t want to deafen or blind yourself or any of us OK!’
‘Right what are those others?’ asked G.
‘Very dangerous somewhere like this’, said Dell storing several of the small devices upon his person but giving none to G, ‘here take this transport fix badge, knife and basic medical kit. Your visor mask includes a filter and short term oxygen supply replaced here with these he showed how the spare tiny tanks were replaced. Unit communications are via voice commands using the visor HUD options also activated here he flipped open a control panel on the inside of G‘s left wrist. You can link your gun up to the head up display via this suit cable like so and see what your sight sees. Try it out handy for not foolishly sticking your head around that corner.’
‘Cool’, said Garrin waving the gun about and watching the site image zooming in and out and trying out the modes.
‘Right this is your share of the dead weight the packs are suspensor assisted adjust the lift here until it is very light but - trust me - not a positive lifting value. It clips on and detaches so via snap on and quick release’, lectured Dell.
‘Fek’, said Garrin thinking this stuff is pretty neat. It was difficult not to feel kind of invulnerable - it was a bit exciting - a little like playing soldiers when you were a child but with real gear.
Dell gave G an appraising stare sensing his mood, ‘Look Garrin just remember this is serious (even with all this stuff if at all possible we don’t want to get into a fight, in fights people get killed and - the people - since you are a rookie is likely to be you!)’, warned Dell.
‘Thanks!’ said Garrin, ‘I really needed to know that!’
‘Believe me’, said Dell, ‘you really do!’
‘So am I chasing this mechanical beastie or what’, said Cole temporarily unclipping one side of his breather mask.
‘No forget it’, said Ravn, ‘I think it would be better to press on. The line must be live up ahead we can patch in there if needed. This tunnel could breach with all these fires, explosions and rumbles lets get out as soon as possible. Anna the map!’
Aye captain, thought Anna sarcastically pulling out her computer pad she was still angry at having her link confiscated as if she couldn‘t be trusted, ‘Luckily’, the RJL Administrator replied having removed her own mask (the one she had liberated from the transit module), ‘this map has an auto position finding function - damn - well it did when the net was up!’ grumbled the Station Runner, as she sat down for fresher air - no longer quite so impressed with the wonderful technology - as she searched through the hard way, ‘I think we must be… here yep - wait no! One moment that’s the other side… hmmm this seems to agree with this sections serial numbers. Damn, that’s another major bulkhead just up ahead behind the cover of this hell spawned smoke’, she spluttered rising again to show everyone, ‘that barrier’, cough, ‘is sure to be down. What about the maintenance exit here’, spit, ‘look it leads round and into Harbour Tower East’, cough, cough, ‘fek following the service line power cables. According to the walk through one person wide most of the way with good head height’, said Anna pausing to take a breath through her mask before continuing, ‘A few ladders down there, and a couple more up here, but since we are equipment light that shouldn‘t stop us.’
‘Hey nice map Anna, something you forgot to give back to AF was it?’ asked Pete hollowly through his helmet visor and mask noticing the very prominent logo on the software.
‘Something…’ cough, ‘like that’, said the former AF PA, ‘damn this stuff is getting to my throat’, she complained replacing the mask.
‘Right that plan looks good, detail to the hatch as follows: myself as advanced point / scout then Pax front, Anna in the middle Pete left Cole right Elaen Rear Guard’, said Rav, Anna noticed unlike herself the smoke hardly seemed to bother the fekker at all, ‘As fast as you can, but watch out this flooring is slippery!’ finished the Chief.
‘Surfs up’, shouted Pete through his mask and visor running a few steps then sliding along a few meters before slipping backwards and landing hard on his rear.
‘I swear Pete you start messing about and I’ll lay one on you’, said Cole angrily hawking up and spitting out an unpleasant tasting mouth full.
‘You and whose army’, came a muffled reply followed by odd laughter from the joker as he starting to get up only to be roughly hoisted by the helmet.
‘That tapping against your groin is what is known as a fekkin big combat knife. Mess about under my command in the field and it will be getting intimate with your - I imagine at the moment hastily shrinking manhood - understand!’ whispered Ravn up close to the Dogs face.
‘Yes sir’, mumbled Pete resentfully.
‘Good because this isn’t a joy ride and if you mess up the only thing you will be surfing is a floating medical unit into an infirmary or the local morgue. NOW GET INTO FORMATION YOU LITTLE FEKKER!’ screamed Ravn at the Dog.
A little earlier Sven’s so called Marines were making use of a copy of Anna’s trace. The signature had been analysed from a detailed close up scan. The information taken by a system hidden within the Revenant of the Eighteen Billion’s supposedly merely decorative - mechanical - breastplate at the Grim Reaper and His Multitude of Victims Ball. It had been a fair guess by the Admiral that the Professor would be tagged for extraction and that it might not be changed for a while. As much as using a GTD to transport the female out would have made life easier for Sven he had to abide by the overall rules of his own game. Anna was to be physically arrested - the more openly the better! Of course no plan of action ever completely survives first contact with the enemy and therefore Sven’s questionable Navy Marines found themselves in pursuit of a crashed Transit Module on a dangerously damaged complex.
At the moment, thought The Mastery, it didn’t look too good in relation to likely civilian witnesses to their heroic arrest - if they managed to catch up with their quarry, but you never fully know in these situations! The Mastery wasn’t very happy nursing a bunch of ingrates along, serving warrants and taking prisoners wasn’t really his line of business, but he just couldn’t say no to the Admiral!
‘To Hell with this’, complained Laughing Boy as the chute shook and they neared another seal, ‘We should be forcibly extracting - ourselves - from this wobbly tin can.’
‘Yeah, well are you volunteering to go back and explain failure to The Open Eye’, said Darkman.
‘Hell we could just go find a GTD whisk the Target out then arrest her’, said Headshot, ‘clean and simple.’
‘Maybe and maybe not’, said The Mastery halting, ‘what if this trace has been passed on to somebody else - perhaps we nab one of Fay’s bad boys - that just wouldn’t be polite’, explained The Mastery, ‘besides we have a warrant it’s all official for once even if we technically are not, so no need for sinister and sneaky!’
‘When wasn’t one of the Eyes jobs sneaky. I thought sneaky was what we got paid for? If we are getting all big and bold why didn’t we just go to the Harbour Tower East and wait instead of squirming around in here like a wiggle of worms? These Penal Boys don’t scare me, they all got caught you know - besides I heard it is just Black Dogs - what are they Navy Engineers? What are they going to do drop an A frame on us?’ said Argumentative.
‘Black Dogs, engineers, more like demolitions experts! A right bunch of nuts infamous for cuddling up with pretty shaped charges - no I don’t think just transporting in the body tied to the trace - is a good idea’, noted The Mastery, ‘as to waiting at the tower, not much point in doing that if our target is trapped down here, gets accidentally spaced, or meets with some other calamity the Eye wants her intact!’
‘You think these Dogs will be trouble?’ asked Bad Day.
‘Just hide behind Fat Lad, Bad Day’, said Cool By Me.
‘Hell we should all get tight behind the big guy if hot metal starts flying’, said Rubber Neck.
‘Why is it - stunted runts - are so nasty mouthed?’, questioned Fat Lad, ‘this is all hard earned muscle the only muscle you guys use is your wagging tongues.’
‘M, I think we should break in here. According to my pad we should be within the main transit section where Anna’s trace is, there is no need to work through more of these sealed subsection safety hatches’, explained Rubber Neck.
‘Ok then well cut out here and drop using cables’, said The Mastery.
‘About fekkin time I swear I was starting to get claustrophobia in here’, panted Fat Lad.
‘Never! You just thought you were going to get jammed, and we would have to cut you up to get past’, said Rubber Neck.
‘Right that’s enough! Stop the chatter! Lock and load I want this by the numbers. Just remember Fay and the Legion are mixed in with this one - and they don’t play by anybodies rules - they have a habit of erring on the side of collateral damage!’, said The Mastery.
Who doesn’t these days, thought Argumentative thinking M was starting to believe he really was a full time Navy Boy instead of a crazy killer in a doggie suit.
A little later they dropped through the gap two at a time like armoured spiders.
‘Ssssmokey’, said Rubber Neck doing his Teladi voice as he looked around in the clouded tunnel.
‘Button it and don’t forget to watch the rear’, said M.
‘Yess Massstery’, said RN.
Damn fool, thought The Mastery, gesturing Cool By Me and Darkman forward with exaggerated hand and arm movement battle signs - visibility wasn’t good. A lot of heat too when he tried a little infra red via his scope. What was he doing with these brutal clods wondered the deadly assassin.
Carl was about to jog forward and make contact with the Marines when he ducked and flopped flat on his belly. Something was wrong it was the pattern of deployment by the Argon Marines up ahead. The soldiers were moving forward tactically covering each other with fields of fire before advancing in stages. Three shadowed partially obscured figures also turned and commenced to act as a rear guard sweeping the area behind them Carl felt very exposed despite the poor visibility.
Why would a search and rescue party be deployed as if expecting serious combat resistance? Maybe they were here for Anna if so how dangerous did they think she was, or was it possible these Marines were not what they seemed and if not then what were they Argon Terrorists? Mercenary traitors in the pay of the Split? The Commander couldn’t think of a better disguise than full AN armour including helmet. If AFC 4’s shield was down (quite possible given the apparent level of damage) they could even have used a GTD to get right into the station although that would be dangerous without a beacon link or deep scan.
As matters stood the Commander didn’t believe in too many coincidences. Maybe Anna was in that wild Transit Module ride if so Carl hoped she was alright. The Copper pulled his hand weapon and muttered a curse - it was hardly enough for this job - nonetheless he ejected the magazine and replaced it with another this one marked with a label on its base a small red square. If these guys were hostile he was going to need every edge he could get - legal or illegal! Carl prayed for the Communications network to come back on soon, he didn’t fancy his chances against this full squad carefully he squirmed along behind on his belly!
Siidan waited patiently as HarpsArgon hacked the last door. The teams computer jock was getting faster with every consecutive emergency bulkhead door he tackled. With the way open BlackAce and the lighter armoured Knot slipped under first - acting as scout, and scouts support.
‘Looks like the rest of the survivors are still here Sir, pretty much as described’, reported Knot followed by a period of silence then, ‘they have one extra fatality the seriously wounded dude didn‘t make it. I can see evidence of the localised explosion the DLC is being repaired by drone, area looks secure.’
‘OK’, said Siidan, ‘let’s go not so far now.’
‘Sir’, said Riddle checking his tracking scanner, ‘they seem to be moving around more.’
‘Why is nothing ever straight forward’, complained Siidan.
‘No. I’m sorry miss’, replied BlackAce, ‘we are here on a rather pressing security matter not evacuation duty I’m afraid’, he explained.
‘Fine I suppose we can wait a bit longer. I’m guessing you’re the Commanders back up team then’, said Sal, ‘Carl said to let you lot know that he went on down the track. Being in a hurry he couldn’t wait on the re-establishment of the COMSYS.’
‘That would be the AFC 4 Police Commander?’ asked BlackAce.
‘Er… yes’, replied Sal surprised then mildly concerned.
‘Siidan, Commander Carl is down here, guess that explains who let our two singing birds out of the cage! The Copper has gone on down the tracks’, explained BA.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Moulin.
‘It means we double time after’, said Siidan as far as the LoD squad leader was concerned if the Copper got in the way he would just be collateral damage: Accidents even friendly fire incidents in this sort of situation were far from uncommon - especially when full communications were down! Fay had stressed the utmost importance of this operation. Siidan was to arrest and retrieve Anna intact at any cost! Besides being on this dying station was making him agitated - dropping somebody, thought Siidan, would cool him down nicely.
Siidan gestured them all past and over the edge Knot first in his light scout armour followed by BlackAce soon scanning with his carbine then HarpsArgon doing the same then Moulin fiddling with her helmet light while hoisting her weapon other handed then Log oddly fluid in his bulky servo assisted armour with its built on automatic light support weapon cradle then Killer with his sniper rifle slapped back atop one shoulder. Riddle somehow negotiated the obstacle with one eye still seemingly checking his scanner. Siidan brought up the rear.
A few fires were still burning and the tunnel was filled with smoke, ‘Welcome to the road to Hell’, said Knot crouching low as he moved along with a sure footed grace.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this one’, said BlackAce.
‘I think the trace is moving on further away down the tunnel’, said Riddle.
‘Move it Knot as fast as you can while staying safe we will keep up’, said Siidan.
‘Acknowledged’, replied Knot.
[On behalf of P66 Plu Dup politely requests that comments are put in new comment thread (you can vote there too) this Boron thanks you for your cooperation.] -
Paranoid66
- Posts: 4643
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 72 – Fighting Fools
Within the AFC4’s infirmary Mynae Fallon was overrun with bodies. Many of these casualties were among the stations most seriously wounded - lesser injuries being patched up or chased off with the help of her increasingly efficient triage team! Since the collision the Senior Medical Officer didn’t have time to worry about possibly perishing with the Station. As soon as Mynae was brought to her infirmary by emergency GTD she was immediately far too busy for useless speculation - all her efforts going to the necessity of keeping the Grim Reapers claws off her patients. For once a degree of medical tunnel vision was a blessing Mynae was happy to feel less than concerned about anything else! Nonetheless, Fallon was still troubled finding it hard to abandon some of the very worst cases to their fate with just a shot to reduce their pain.
The Senior Medical Officer simply couldn’t afford to waste her time on Argons that were just not likely to make it, but the hardness of these decisions still pained her. Where the hell was the Navy why were they not extracting these worthies? Mynae needed these exceptional cases put at least into temporary suspension. The overrun AFC 4 facilities in relation to suspended animation medical freezing - were already full up - such extreme casualties only hope of survival now lay in a GTD to the boys in grey.
Including such previously mentioned worse case scenarios Mynaes most worrying patients were invariably: burns, smoke inhalation, chemical poisoning, and physical trauma victims (from falls and or crushing damage). Surprisingly few decompression or oxygen starvation cases were noticeable here - most of those unfortunates - proved out and out fatalities arriving completely too late as cold corpses.
The Female Medical Argon knew despite the concern of her staff if the station survived? she would have no option but to work until her anger, and no doubt an overdose of stimulants finally gave way to utter physical exhaustion. Once again in space it was going to be a very long night!
‘The hatch is locked down’, explained Ravn, ‘any ideas!’ It looked suspiciously like he had the wrong team members with him for this hacking job.
‘I’m pretty sure I could blow it’, noted Cole checking his pockets while looking it over, ‘but in a situation like this I wouldn’t advise taking doors off that way not without vacuum suits.’
‘Well I could get us through in a instant if we had communications’, said Elaen, ‘but as matters stand it might as well be a solid wall as far as I‘m concerned.’
Anna pulled out her computer pad and called up a certain security hack subroutine link, ‘Out of the way boys and girl’, less than a segment later the obstruction swung obediently open like a puppy wagging its tail.
How by the Seven Heavens did Anna do that?, wondered El, the ex ArgonForge PA was just full of surprises! The Lt. Constable had to admit to a degree of curiosity as to what her Commander would make of this? With an agitation like an embarrassing itch somewhere it was impolite to scratch Elaen realised Anna might make her life very complicated if she saw too many more uncomfortable revelations.
‘I’m glad I’m not on duty at the moment’, said El out loud rather pointedly closely watching Anna’s response. The RJL Administrator seemed far too unconcerned while Rav had the cheek to give her one of his… we can discuss this later looks before changing the subject.
‘I’m just happy we don’t have any really heavy duty gear’, the Chief said looking into the space beyond the metal portal, ‘it may be an easy one person wide but it looks a lot less tidy than the walk through and that is a very sharp looking right turn to start with.’
Elaen leaned to the side to look in making the most of her torch light in the process. The beam adding an extra cleaner bit of illumination to the red washed and shadowed space: the walls, floor and ceiling were all noticeably crowded not just with the aforementioned power cables, but also with multiple colour coded serial numbered pipes alongside other less easily identifiable - intestinal - fixtures and fittings, some of which actually seemed to weave in and out among each other like crazy metallic vines.
As Ravn moved in first and turned the corner he was very unimpressed. The lighting was even more fitful than in the Transit Tube (while remaining that same gloomy emergency red colour). Shadows danced everywhere broken by streams of stronger illumination that worked its way in through grates, grills and semi closed shutters. The Chief could hear what sounded like fans turning somewhere above up ahead while the air itself was circulating in strange patterns of cold breezes that hailed from unexpected directions. The fact that the maintenance conduit wasn’t a sealed unit set his teeth to grinding! It left the area wide open to the effects of fire, decompression, even perhaps chemical or gas spill’s from any adjoining areas, ‘great’, he mumbled to himself.
‘Definitely a lot less inviting than the view from the walk through’, continued the Chief.
‘The map didn’t show all these details but the overall spatial awareness is spot on. Lightly equipped as we are without bulky vacuum suits we should be able to negotiate ourselves through this section here pretty quickly. Next stop harbour Tower East’s Foyer’, said Anna feeling confident about her decision despites her security’s misgivings.
Elaen wasn’t so sure - these under the floor between the walls type areas - of the Station always gave her the twitches. Every time the Lt. Constable entered one of these enclosed spaces she expected some alien creature from a horror PVR to jump out with an evil hiss, lashing out with some exceptionally disgusting appendage (dripping mucus of course) prior to happily sucking out her brains as if slurping down on an unusually flavoursome nutrient drink via a heavy duty drinking straw! Getting roped into this situation Elaen felt like she deserved to have her brain painfully extracted, or maybe that in fact somebody had secretly started this process already - when she hadn’t been paying proper attention!
On a positive note once they were all inside and the moonlighting copper at the rear had sealed the hatch the air soon cleared of that annoying smoke - so much so - that El was able to turn off the oxygen, undo her mask, and clip it to her belt! It was a pity that the air quality was still pretty unpalatable being rather unduly moist with a tang of rust and a hint of unknown chemicals from unclear sources she didn‘t overly want to consider.
With everyone moving ahead of her in single file Elaen found she was feeling very much like the rear end of the RJL party - the image this produced - wasn’t a pleasant one either, and as much as she tried to convince herself that per position was better than the unknown risks of point (with so many crammed in bodies in front of her) the Lieutenant was starting to feel uncharacteristically claustrophobic. Elaen realised she would far rather have been alone or with a single partner in a situation like this. If something bad was to go down now they would be caught like a pack of rats crushed together in a steel trap.
Carl crawled along a bit on his gut then decided (it was the better part of his valour) to let the guys up ahead widen the gap a bit. The Commander was feeling more than a little paranoid exposed and stressed out. When the crashed module finally came into view Carl noticed how the Marines(?) didn’t hang about, but more of less (after only the most cursory examination) hurried on. With the solid vehicle now between himself and scrutiny the Commander also decided to move up rapidly by sprinting forward crouched low until he was leaning against the solid bulk of the module itself. Pulling out a tiny mirror on an extending wand Carl checked ahead then slipped around the other side furthest away from the Marines to peer inside the Transit craft near its front.
The wreck was fully abandoned with no signs of blood spatter or corpses. The emergency exit had been blown using an inside activator indicating surviving passengers! Hunching down tight to the vehicle the Commander watched the squad up ahead moving off towards an obviously lit up hatchway.
Back at the Central Security Desk Ethan was delighted with the re-establishment of all the full security links including direct lines into the CAO and the CSLD not to mention the all important connections to every AF police Argon. Activations were sent out to everyone including: off duty officers, and reservist volunteers due to the dire nature of the crisis. The desk was a hub of unprecedented activity as monitors and channels opened up including long three dimensional cascades of information and visual data portals.
Ferg, Rian and Lyte had been drafted in to assist Ethan in battling his way through the mammoth communication co-ordination task - issuing streams of orders and processing all the endless requests for emergency GTD’s, fire fighting units, medical teams, specialist rescue operations and so on. It was a logistical nightmare of organised chaos, but at least it helped keep these coppers minds off their own personal fears. Ethan was also happy to be able - at last - to link in with his Commander.
Carl was still at the Transit Module when his link bleeped its welcome reactivation code luckily quietly into his ear. The alert was followed by an almost immediate hail from the Central Security Desk!
‘Commander CSD here we have your position in the Transit Tube, do you need assistance? What is your status? Over’, asked the CSD.
‘Physically fine but I might have a tactical situation here’ whispered Carl, ‘where is my strike team? Over.’
‘Hmmm checking pre-evacuation operational status reports. They are still at the Harbour Tower East Foyer Sir they managed to GTD before the collision and all the fun started, over’, replied CSD.
A collision, thought Carl, it must have been a cursed wayward Argon Navy Titan or something, ‘Have we got GTD access, over’, he asked.
‘Only on emergency usage via local power cell storage’, explained the CSD.
‘I’ve got a bunch of well armed jokers down here possibly Marines possibly hostiles. I want a scan of this sector and an identification quick as, over’, whispered Carl.
‘Processing one moment. Activating local sector scan, Sir’, said the CSD, ‘Commander I’m reading two eight unit squads one very close near a maintenance hatch the other coming up quickly from the direction of the Black Moon Transit Station. Interrogating the ICCS the locals are logged to Admiral Sven designated as ‘Storm Wraiths - boarding and security specialists’ according to operations integration they have a registered Navy warrant to arrest and question Anna Dei under the provision of the Federal Security Act Sir! The other bunch is a throw together group of unnamed specialists with just a serial number and an advisory that they are from the ‘Lost for Words’. Their mission is classified beyond my clearance Sir - sealed under an ANI executive authorisation. Over.’
‘CSD’, said the Commander still very quietly, ‘please actively put an ICCS seal on that hatch near the Wraiths - I believe there is a - unregistered - pressure differential it would be a tragedy if that hatch was cracked! When I say execute transport me to the Harbour Tower East Foyer! Over.’
‘Acknowledged I am fixing that dysfunctional differential scan reading now Sir, Good luck with the rest of your mission, over’, came a smiley sounding reply. Obviously getting one over on the boys in grey had amused the Argon at the CSD!
Sometimes not too often, but sometimes it was good to be the head of security on ArgonForge Complex Four! Carefully Carl moved back behind the wreck then whispered out, ‘Execute’, and disappeared in a flash.
Knot could have swore he saw something - a quick splash of illumination - near the Damaged Transit Module, but he half doubted himself hearing nothing that would indicate an explosion. Nonetheless the visual anomaly caused him to pause and reconsider his approach. Crouching low the Scout started the first of a series of motion scans. Was that something he was picking up beyond the spilled Module a very faint series of traces up further ahead.
Signalling for the others to hold with the back of a raised hand knot slowly advanced forward stopping periodically and holding still to take more motion readings until he reached the wide covering bulk of the vehicle itself. At this point Knot slipped soundlessly down and crawling along on his belly he squirmed forward to check with infinite care using a painfully advanced gun pushed forward around the corner down at the very base of the ground. Knot soon located a squad of Marines(?) bunched around a well lit hatch. Making the most of his weapon sights functionality the scout zoomed in stabilised and took a still image of one identification patch on one set of armour. There was no doubting the insignia these were Sven’s Storm Wraiths. Knot immediately electronically relayed the images back to his field commander Siidan.
Siidan wasn’t too happy with the result of the incoming intelligence on his HUD. Thinking furiously the Legion of the Damned squad leader decided it was hardly a coincidence that Sven’s Marines were on the trail of Anna and the Dogs. Siidan was getting peeved with the Commander around here somewhere as well this was turning into a cursed security convention. Well he wasn’t playing around with this bunch of fek wits. Relaying his orders using hand signs Siidan sent his men forward the time for games and polite conversation was over. As much as it felt like piddling in his own pond he wasn’t going to give away the initiative by parlaying. Siidan initiated an illegal wide effect recycling short range portable block on this section (powering down all the spying cameras and sensors) then with the record blind and his men finally in positions around the cover of the module gave the signal to take the newly designated hostiles down!
Rubber Neck was querying some potential motion readings when to his surprise Cool By Me somehow tripped backwards and fell. A moment later Bad Day also slumped only this time RN caught the impact of the silent sniper round as it hit home punching through this colleagues helmeted head. Yelling, ‘Sniper’, RN dived for the ground a rd making a furrow along the top of the outer plate of his right shoulders armour as all hell broke lose from a barrage of incoming fire. Argumentative was punched off his feet by several tightly grouped hits from a carbine that spat into his back exploding his heart and lungs killing him instantly. Darkman was hit and rolled up on the ground screaming in agony from a gut wound. Fat Lad came under a stream of hard rounds from a light assault weapon that commenced to chew its way through his monster suits very temporary auto activated shield.
Panicking Fat Lad sprang away sideways to roll noisily on the deck using maximum servo assistance while still clutching his rotary machine gun. As a result of the big Argons assisted move the tail end of the incoming short burst of support fire missed its target and impacted with sparks around the closed hatchway narrowly missing Laughing Boy who (by either fluke or sneaky design) due to his placement had been obscured from the rear attack by the bulk of his team member. Due to his good fortune Laughing Boy managed to find the poor cover of the deck with only a few bruises for his trouble. The Mastery took a single hit to the back of his left shoulder which hurt like hell and literally disabled his left arm, but managed to strike the emergency tactical GTD call button hanging from his neck. The Wraiths including their wounded and dead flared with light and vanished to appear at the last dropped disposable transport marker near the spot where they had fallen into this section from the roof above.
‘I see them’, said Knot calmly. The scout had placed a camera to view the rear - just in case of stragglers or other undesirable surprises and the GTD’s arrival was impossible to miss, ‘behind us about 90m’s’, he continued.
Well, thought Siidan, that was the easy bit of the engagement - no more element of surprise - still so far so good!
Looking at his squad The mastery realised they had been pretty badly mauled when the fek of a sniper demonstrated a surprising turn of speed by hitting Rubber Neck putting a round through his collar bone as he moved to administer a sedative to the still screaming Darkman RN immediately passed out.
Enraged Fat Lad was now laying down wild suppressing fire towards and around the at this distance rather obscured transport module with his own rotating barrelled support weapon. Unfortunately despite his dramatic and defiant pose their was no indication of any great success beyond the temporary boosting of FL’s own morale, temporary because electronic speaker enhanced laughter soon drifted out followed by a demand for the Wraiths to acknowledge the wasteful futility of further resistance and ordering them to cease fire, drop their weapons, and surrender! While Laughing boy squirmed around to get behind the deceased Bad Day raising the corpse on its side for cover. The Mastery dosed himself and sighed as the pain retreated a bit from his left shoulder - nonetheless, he still felt defeated and exceptionally miserable - the only good news was the fact that he was right handed and could still use a handgun if required.
‘Surrendering sounds like a good option to me right now', said Laughing Boy, still having failed to fire a single shot in the entire engagement. Laughing Boy's other nickname was 'The Miser' because of the way he hoarded his ammunition and only fired when he reckoned he was going to actually hit something. As LB mentioned giving up, a sniper round hit the armour and dead flesh barrier he was hiding behind as if for added emphasis, ‘seriously I think we are completely fekked up here!’ said the ever unhappy mercenary.
‘Fek you’, screamed Fat Lad, ‘die you sons of sluts’, he yelled spewing out bullets from his heavy weapon like he was sprinkling water on a dry AP lawn with a hose.
‘You’re just going to overheat the barrels’, advised LB, ‘or run out of ammo.’
Which was exactly what he did a few brief moments later as the gun started to spin on empty, ‘hell’ spat FL after reaching for his nonexistent extra magazines. Remembering too late that it was no good. The big weapon was now nothing but useless bulk. Defying the sniper to get through his armour he trailed at the weapons support harness and cast it off in a fit of disgust. It hadn’t taken him long to expend the meagre 300 rounds he had been allocated - (the max support weapon ammunition general Navy rules apparently allowed their grunts to openly carry on a friendly civilian station). FL in the heat of the moment had just forgotten he was operating under such ridiculously artificial limitations of lawful civility and could feel his face reddening at his own stupidity in wasting the weapons very limited vital resource of ammo. With no other option the big Argon pulled out a tiny in his hands pistol pulling a sour face behind his helmet visor and mask and dropped to the deck for cover.
More laughter echoed from the taunting Legion almost as if they understood the utter fullness of his indignity.
A curse on the evil feks, thought The Mastery, they hadn’t given them a chance but it was his own fault. Sven shouldn’t have given me the command of this useless team I am too used to working alone. The Mastery with hindsight realised he should have left a rear guard at the Module or at the least had a camera drone out. However, the fekkin useless mercenaries had minds too and they had also chosen to bunch around the door!
It was unfortunate that his own highly trained mind had been occupied by the puzzle of the locked hatch. The readings had seemed to alter mid interrogation from being: sealed due to the overall station alert, to being held fast because of a serious pressure differential and the risk of a wider decompression. Hacking a hatch with an active pressure differential lock down tag on it was an offence punishable by spacing on stations because of the deadly risk to everyone onboard.
The Mastery although convinced it was in all probability nothing but a ploy knew, nonetheless, that since they were supposedly legit and serving a warrant it wouldn’t really do to flaunt such a rigidly enforced station law even if there wasn’t a serious risk of real decompression. The Assassin was about to make the call to forget this option and move on to the main bulkhead door - instead - when the attack had commenced.
Now because of his obsession with that fekkin door they were in a very bad way. The options didn’t look good The Mastery knew he could personally GTD out to his own scout ship, but Sven wasn’t one to forgive failure and would hunt him down strip his hide and nail it to his wall as a bloody trophy. Even calling for backup from the Admiral would be deemed as weakness and a failure in itself, no somehow despite his injury and the slaughter of this squad he still had to succeed!
Only if The Mastery managed to bring back the prize would he regain the Open Eyes favour and be able to cut himself safely lose. Since brute force and intimidation was now out of the question he would have to use what he did best subterfuge and underhanded backstabbing double dealings. The Mastery decided he would let these direct but finesse less killers think they had him and then turn the tables, ‘Its hopeless’, said The Mastery then called out, ‘Alright you win, we are laying down our weapons, we surrender!’
‘Wise move. You are on camera, drop everything: belts, weapons, packs, helmets, gloves, even dog tags then move forward ten paces… Right that’s it now slowly lie face down with your arms spread out and your hands palms out figures splayed. Good boys!’ said the voice.
The surviving Storm Wraiths were still lying like that cursing their predicament when the Legion of the Damned congregated around them looked down unsympathetically and shot them almost simultaneously point blank in the back of their respective heads!
‘Don’t forget to ensure the others are also fatalities. Really what did they think we were going to do with a bunch of prisoners?’ asked Siidan as he put two rounds into the still squirming Darkman’s cranium.
‘What a bunch or morons’, said Riddle.
‘Tell it to the Marines - gods but I hate the Navy’, said Moulin pushing one of the indecently still alive supposedly corpses over. For a moment she watched the wounded man breathing with an odd almost whimsical expression before popping a shot lazily through Rubber Necks eye with her carbine with a horrid grin.
Killer laughed, ‘But Moulin we are the Navy’, he said.
‘That‘s entirely my point!’ grumbled the female Damned.
‘Never expect logic from a girl’, said Knot stealing the Mastery’s handgun.
‘Right enough frolicking about strip them of anything useful then pile them into the Transit Module. Hurry up we still have that cursed Reaper wench to arrest and cart back to Her Majesty. Come on some fool is bound to be asking questions about this block and as much fun as it is - we can’t hang around here killing Marines all cycle!’ said Siidan then asked, ‘how is the leg HarpsArgon?’
‘It was just a crease I can’t believe he emptied that canon and didn’t seriously hurt or kill anyone’, said HA.
‘Well if you must resort to panic fire I always say do it up close and personal’, said BlackAce.
‘Panic firing is a waste of ammo’, returned Killer.
‘I see you missed this ones head K’ said Moulin.
‘Only because I wasn’t aiming for it. Hey this surface sure makes dragging bodies easy!’ replied the Sniper.
‘Race you to the module for a tally’, said Riddle pulling Bad Days body ahead.
‘You’re on big ears’, said the Sniper hastily dragging Argumentative after him to various shouts of encouragement and side bets.
Siidan chuckled, well there was nothing like a bit of friendly competition to get a boring job done quicker and boost morale. It was good to see the lads back doing what they did best - totally fekking other people up!
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 72 – Fighting Fools
Within the AFC4’s infirmary Mynae Fallon was overrun with bodies. Many of these casualties were among the stations most seriously wounded - lesser injuries being patched up or chased off with the help of her increasingly efficient triage team! Since the collision the Senior Medical Officer didn’t have time to worry about possibly perishing with the Station. As soon as Mynae was brought to her infirmary by emergency GTD she was immediately far too busy for useless speculation - all her efforts going to the necessity of keeping the Grim Reapers claws off her patients. For once a degree of medical tunnel vision was a blessing Mynae was happy to feel less than concerned about anything else! Nonetheless, Fallon was still troubled finding it hard to abandon some of the very worst cases to their fate with just a shot to reduce their pain.
The Senior Medical Officer simply couldn’t afford to waste her time on Argons that were just not likely to make it, but the hardness of these decisions still pained her. Where the hell was the Navy why were they not extracting these worthies? Mynae needed these exceptional cases put at least into temporary suspension. The overrun AFC 4 facilities in relation to suspended animation medical freezing - were already full up - such extreme casualties only hope of survival now lay in a GTD to the boys in grey.
Including such previously mentioned worse case scenarios Mynaes most worrying patients were invariably: burns, smoke inhalation, chemical poisoning, and physical trauma victims (from falls and or crushing damage). Surprisingly few decompression or oxygen starvation cases were noticeable here - most of those unfortunates - proved out and out fatalities arriving completely too late as cold corpses.
The Female Medical Argon knew despite the concern of her staff if the station survived? she would have no option but to work until her anger, and no doubt an overdose of stimulants finally gave way to utter physical exhaustion. Once again in space it was going to be a very long night!
‘The hatch is locked down’, explained Ravn, ‘any ideas!’ It looked suspiciously like he had the wrong team members with him for this hacking job.
‘I’m pretty sure I could blow it’, noted Cole checking his pockets while looking it over, ‘but in a situation like this I wouldn’t advise taking doors off that way not without vacuum suits.’
‘Well I could get us through in a instant if we had communications’, said Elaen, ‘but as matters stand it might as well be a solid wall as far as I‘m concerned.’
Anna pulled out her computer pad and called up a certain security hack subroutine link, ‘Out of the way boys and girl’, less than a segment later the obstruction swung obediently open like a puppy wagging its tail.
How by the Seven Heavens did Anna do that?, wondered El, the ex ArgonForge PA was just full of surprises! The Lt. Constable had to admit to a degree of curiosity as to what her Commander would make of this? With an agitation like an embarrassing itch somewhere it was impolite to scratch Elaen realised Anna might make her life very complicated if she saw too many more uncomfortable revelations.
‘I’m glad I’m not on duty at the moment’, said El out loud rather pointedly closely watching Anna’s response. The RJL Administrator seemed far too unconcerned while Rav had the cheek to give her one of his… we can discuss this later looks before changing the subject.
‘I’m just happy we don’t have any really heavy duty gear’, the Chief said looking into the space beyond the metal portal, ‘it may be an easy one person wide but it looks a lot less tidy than the walk through and that is a very sharp looking right turn to start with.’
Elaen leaned to the side to look in making the most of her torch light in the process. The beam adding an extra cleaner bit of illumination to the red washed and shadowed space: the walls, floor and ceiling were all noticeably crowded not just with the aforementioned power cables, but also with multiple colour coded serial numbered pipes alongside other less easily identifiable - intestinal - fixtures and fittings, some of which actually seemed to weave in and out among each other like crazy metallic vines.
As Ravn moved in first and turned the corner he was very unimpressed. The lighting was even more fitful than in the Transit Tube (while remaining that same gloomy emergency red colour). Shadows danced everywhere broken by streams of stronger illumination that worked its way in through grates, grills and semi closed shutters. The Chief could hear what sounded like fans turning somewhere above up ahead while the air itself was circulating in strange patterns of cold breezes that hailed from unexpected directions. The fact that the maintenance conduit wasn’t a sealed unit set his teeth to grinding! It left the area wide open to the effects of fire, decompression, even perhaps chemical or gas spill’s from any adjoining areas, ‘great’, he mumbled to himself.
‘Definitely a lot less inviting than the view from the walk through’, continued the Chief.
‘The map didn’t show all these details but the overall spatial awareness is spot on. Lightly equipped as we are without bulky vacuum suits we should be able to negotiate ourselves through this section here pretty quickly. Next stop harbour Tower East’s Foyer’, said Anna feeling confident about her decision despites her security’s misgivings.
Elaen wasn’t so sure - these under the floor between the walls type areas - of the Station always gave her the twitches. Every time the Lt. Constable entered one of these enclosed spaces she expected some alien creature from a horror PVR to jump out with an evil hiss, lashing out with some exceptionally disgusting appendage (dripping mucus of course) prior to happily sucking out her brains as if slurping down on an unusually flavoursome nutrient drink via a heavy duty drinking straw! Getting roped into this situation Elaen felt like she deserved to have her brain painfully extracted, or maybe that in fact somebody had secretly started this process already - when she hadn’t been paying proper attention!
On a positive note once they were all inside and the moonlighting copper at the rear had sealed the hatch the air soon cleared of that annoying smoke - so much so - that El was able to turn off the oxygen, undo her mask, and clip it to her belt! It was a pity that the air quality was still pretty unpalatable being rather unduly moist with a tang of rust and a hint of unknown chemicals from unclear sources she didn‘t overly want to consider.
With everyone moving ahead of her in single file Elaen found she was feeling very much like the rear end of the RJL party - the image this produced - wasn’t a pleasant one either, and as much as she tried to convince herself that per position was better than the unknown risks of point (with so many crammed in bodies in front of her) the Lieutenant was starting to feel uncharacteristically claustrophobic. Elaen realised she would far rather have been alone or with a single partner in a situation like this. If something bad was to go down now they would be caught like a pack of rats crushed together in a steel trap.
Carl crawled along a bit on his gut then decided (it was the better part of his valour) to let the guys up ahead widen the gap a bit. The Commander was feeling more than a little paranoid exposed and stressed out. When the crashed module finally came into view Carl noticed how the Marines(?) didn’t hang about, but more of less (after only the most cursory examination) hurried on. With the solid vehicle now between himself and scrutiny the Commander also decided to move up rapidly by sprinting forward crouched low until he was leaning against the solid bulk of the module itself. Pulling out a tiny mirror on an extending wand Carl checked ahead then slipped around the other side furthest away from the Marines to peer inside the Transit craft near its front.
The wreck was fully abandoned with no signs of blood spatter or corpses. The emergency exit had been blown using an inside activator indicating surviving passengers! Hunching down tight to the vehicle the Commander watched the squad up ahead moving off towards an obviously lit up hatchway.
Back at the Central Security Desk Ethan was delighted with the re-establishment of all the full security links including direct lines into the CAO and the CSLD not to mention the all important connections to every AF police Argon. Activations were sent out to everyone including: off duty officers, and reservist volunteers due to the dire nature of the crisis. The desk was a hub of unprecedented activity as monitors and channels opened up including long three dimensional cascades of information and visual data portals.
Ferg, Rian and Lyte had been drafted in to assist Ethan in battling his way through the mammoth communication co-ordination task - issuing streams of orders and processing all the endless requests for emergency GTD’s, fire fighting units, medical teams, specialist rescue operations and so on. It was a logistical nightmare of organised chaos, but at least it helped keep these coppers minds off their own personal fears. Ethan was also happy to be able - at last - to link in with his Commander.
Carl was still at the Transit Module when his link bleeped its welcome reactivation code luckily quietly into his ear. The alert was followed by an almost immediate hail from the Central Security Desk!
‘Commander CSD here we have your position in the Transit Tube, do you need assistance? What is your status? Over’, asked the CSD.
‘Physically fine but I might have a tactical situation here’ whispered Carl, ‘where is my strike team? Over.’
‘Hmmm checking pre-evacuation operational status reports. They are still at the Harbour Tower East Foyer Sir they managed to GTD before the collision and all the fun started, over’, replied CSD.
A collision, thought Carl, it must have been a cursed wayward Argon Navy Titan or something, ‘Have we got GTD access, over’, he asked.
‘Only on emergency usage via local power cell storage’, explained the CSD.
‘I’ve got a bunch of well armed jokers down here possibly Marines possibly hostiles. I want a scan of this sector and an identification quick as, over’, whispered Carl.
‘Processing one moment. Activating local sector scan, Sir’, said the CSD, ‘Commander I’m reading two eight unit squads one very close near a maintenance hatch the other coming up quickly from the direction of the Black Moon Transit Station. Interrogating the ICCS the locals are logged to Admiral Sven designated as ‘Storm Wraiths - boarding and security specialists’ according to operations integration they have a registered Navy warrant to arrest and question Anna Dei under the provision of the Federal Security Act Sir! The other bunch is a throw together group of unnamed specialists with just a serial number and an advisory that they are from the ‘Lost for Words’. Their mission is classified beyond my clearance Sir - sealed under an ANI executive authorisation. Over.’
‘CSD’, said the Commander still very quietly, ‘please actively put an ICCS seal on that hatch near the Wraiths - I believe there is a - unregistered - pressure differential it would be a tragedy if that hatch was cracked! When I say execute transport me to the Harbour Tower East Foyer! Over.’
‘Acknowledged I am fixing that dysfunctional differential scan reading now Sir, Good luck with the rest of your mission, over’, came a smiley sounding reply. Obviously getting one over on the boys in grey had amused the Argon at the CSD!
Sometimes not too often, but sometimes it was good to be the head of security on ArgonForge Complex Four! Carefully Carl moved back behind the wreck then whispered out, ‘Execute’, and disappeared in a flash.
Knot could have swore he saw something - a quick splash of illumination - near the Damaged Transit Module, but he half doubted himself hearing nothing that would indicate an explosion. Nonetheless the visual anomaly caused him to pause and reconsider his approach. Crouching low the Scout started the first of a series of motion scans. Was that something he was picking up beyond the spilled Module a very faint series of traces up further ahead.
Signalling for the others to hold with the back of a raised hand knot slowly advanced forward stopping periodically and holding still to take more motion readings until he reached the wide covering bulk of the vehicle itself. At this point Knot slipped soundlessly down and crawling along on his belly he squirmed forward to check with infinite care using a painfully advanced gun pushed forward around the corner down at the very base of the ground. Knot soon located a squad of Marines(?) bunched around a well lit hatch. Making the most of his weapon sights functionality the scout zoomed in stabilised and took a still image of one identification patch on one set of armour. There was no doubting the insignia these were Sven’s Storm Wraiths. Knot immediately electronically relayed the images back to his field commander Siidan.
Siidan wasn’t too happy with the result of the incoming intelligence on his HUD. Thinking furiously the Legion of the Damned squad leader decided it was hardly a coincidence that Sven’s Marines were on the trail of Anna and the Dogs. Siidan was getting peeved with the Commander around here somewhere as well this was turning into a cursed security convention. Well he wasn’t playing around with this bunch of fek wits. Relaying his orders using hand signs Siidan sent his men forward the time for games and polite conversation was over. As much as it felt like piddling in his own pond he wasn’t going to give away the initiative by parlaying. Siidan initiated an illegal wide effect recycling short range portable block on this section (powering down all the spying cameras and sensors) then with the record blind and his men finally in positions around the cover of the module gave the signal to take the newly designated hostiles down!
Rubber Neck was querying some potential motion readings when to his surprise Cool By Me somehow tripped backwards and fell. A moment later Bad Day also slumped only this time RN caught the impact of the silent sniper round as it hit home punching through this colleagues helmeted head. Yelling, ‘Sniper’, RN dived for the ground a rd making a furrow along the top of the outer plate of his right shoulders armour as all hell broke lose from a barrage of incoming fire. Argumentative was punched off his feet by several tightly grouped hits from a carbine that spat into his back exploding his heart and lungs killing him instantly. Darkman was hit and rolled up on the ground screaming in agony from a gut wound. Fat Lad came under a stream of hard rounds from a light assault weapon that commenced to chew its way through his monster suits very temporary auto activated shield.
Panicking Fat Lad sprang away sideways to roll noisily on the deck using maximum servo assistance while still clutching his rotary machine gun. As a result of the big Argons assisted move the tail end of the incoming short burst of support fire missed its target and impacted with sparks around the closed hatchway narrowly missing Laughing Boy who (by either fluke or sneaky design) due to his placement had been obscured from the rear attack by the bulk of his team member. Due to his good fortune Laughing Boy managed to find the poor cover of the deck with only a few bruises for his trouble. The Mastery took a single hit to the back of his left shoulder which hurt like hell and literally disabled his left arm, but managed to strike the emergency tactical GTD call button hanging from his neck. The Wraiths including their wounded and dead flared with light and vanished to appear at the last dropped disposable transport marker near the spot where they had fallen into this section from the roof above.
‘I see them’, said Knot calmly. The scout had placed a camera to view the rear - just in case of stragglers or other undesirable surprises and the GTD’s arrival was impossible to miss, ‘behind us about 90m’s’, he continued.
Well, thought Siidan, that was the easy bit of the engagement - no more element of surprise - still so far so good!
Looking at his squad The mastery realised they had been pretty badly mauled when the fek of a sniper demonstrated a surprising turn of speed by hitting Rubber Neck putting a round through his collar bone as he moved to administer a sedative to the still screaming Darkman RN immediately passed out.
Enraged Fat Lad was now laying down wild suppressing fire towards and around the at this distance rather obscured transport module with his own rotating barrelled support weapon. Unfortunately despite his dramatic and defiant pose their was no indication of any great success beyond the temporary boosting of FL’s own morale, temporary because electronic speaker enhanced laughter soon drifted out followed by a demand for the Wraiths to acknowledge the wasteful futility of further resistance and ordering them to cease fire, drop their weapons, and surrender! While Laughing boy squirmed around to get behind the deceased Bad Day raising the corpse on its side for cover. The Mastery dosed himself and sighed as the pain retreated a bit from his left shoulder - nonetheless, he still felt defeated and exceptionally miserable - the only good news was the fact that he was right handed and could still use a handgun if required.
‘Surrendering sounds like a good option to me right now', said Laughing Boy, still having failed to fire a single shot in the entire engagement. Laughing Boy's other nickname was 'The Miser' because of the way he hoarded his ammunition and only fired when he reckoned he was going to actually hit something. As LB mentioned giving up, a sniper round hit the armour and dead flesh barrier he was hiding behind as if for added emphasis, ‘seriously I think we are completely fekked up here!’ said the ever unhappy mercenary.
‘Fek you’, screamed Fat Lad, ‘die you sons of sluts’, he yelled spewing out bullets from his heavy weapon like he was sprinkling water on a dry AP lawn with a hose.
‘You’re just going to overheat the barrels’, advised LB, ‘or run out of ammo.’
Which was exactly what he did a few brief moments later as the gun started to spin on empty, ‘hell’ spat FL after reaching for his nonexistent extra magazines. Remembering too late that it was no good. The big weapon was now nothing but useless bulk. Defying the sniper to get through his armour he trailed at the weapons support harness and cast it off in a fit of disgust. It hadn’t taken him long to expend the meagre 300 rounds he had been allocated - (the max support weapon ammunition general Navy rules apparently allowed their grunts to openly carry on a friendly civilian station). FL in the heat of the moment had just forgotten he was operating under such ridiculously artificial limitations of lawful civility and could feel his face reddening at his own stupidity in wasting the weapons very limited vital resource of ammo. With no other option the big Argon pulled out a tiny in his hands pistol pulling a sour face behind his helmet visor and mask and dropped to the deck for cover.
More laughter echoed from the taunting Legion almost as if they understood the utter fullness of his indignity.
A curse on the evil feks, thought The Mastery, they hadn’t given them a chance but it was his own fault. Sven shouldn’t have given me the command of this useless team I am too used to working alone. The Mastery with hindsight realised he should have left a rear guard at the Module or at the least had a camera drone out. However, the fekkin useless mercenaries had minds too and they had also chosen to bunch around the door!
It was unfortunate that his own highly trained mind had been occupied by the puzzle of the locked hatch. The readings had seemed to alter mid interrogation from being: sealed due to the overall station alert, to being held fast because of a serious pressure differential and the risk of a wider decompression. Hacking a hatch with an active pressure differential lock down tag on it was an offence punishable by spacing on stations because of the deadly risk to everyone onboard.
The Mastery although convinced it was in all probability nothing but a ploy knew, nonetheless, that since they were supposedly legit and serving a warrant it wouldn’t really do to flaunt such a rigidly enforced station law even if there wasn’t a serious risk of real decompression. The Assassin was about to make the call to forget this option and move on to the main bulkhead door - instead - when the attack had commenced.
Now because of his obsession with that fekkin door they were in a very bad way. The options didn’t look good The Mastery knew he could personally GTD out to his own scout ship, but Sven wasn’t one to forgive failure and would hunt him down strip his hide and nail it to his wall as a bloody trophy. Even calling for backup from the Admiral would be deemed as weakness and a failure in itself, no somehow despite his injury and the slaughter of this squad he still had to succeed!
Only if The Mastery managed to bring back the prize would he regain the Open Eyes favour and be able to cut himself safely lose. Since brute force and intimidation was now out of the question he would have to use what he did best subterfuge and underhanded backstabbing double dealings. The Mastery decided he would let these direct but finesse less killers think they had him and then turn the tables, ‘Its hopeless’, said The Mastery then called out, ‘Alright you win, we are laying down our weapons, we surrender!’
‘Wise move. You are on camera, drop everything: belts, weapons, packs, helmets, gloves, even dog tags then move forward ten paces… Right that’s it now slowly lie face down with your arms spread out and your hands palms out figures splayed. Good boys!’ said the voice.
The surviving Storm Wraiths were still lying like that cursing their predicament when the Legion of the Damned congregated around them looked down unsympathetically and shot them almost simultaneously point blank in the back of their respective heads!
‘Don’t forget to ensure the others are also fatalities. Really what did they think we were going to do with a bunch of prisoners?’ asked Siidan as he put two rounds into the still squirming Darkman’s cranium.
‘What a bunch or morons’, said Riddle.
‘Tell it to the Marines - gods but I hate the Navy’, said Moulin pushing one of the indecently still alive supposedly corpses over. For a moment she watched the wounded man breathing with an odd almost whimsical expression before popping a shot lazily through Rubber Necks eye with her carbine with a horrid grin.
Killer laughed, ‘But Moulin we are the Navy’, he said.
‘That‘s entirely my point!’ grumbled the female Damned.
‘Never expect logic from a girl’, said Knot stealing the Mastery’s handgun.
‘Right enough frolicking about strip them of anything useful then pile them into the Transit Module. Hurry up we still have that cursed Reaper wench to arrest and cart back to Her Majesty. Come on some fool is bound to be asking questions about this block and as much fun as it is - we can’t hang around here killing Marines all cycle!’ said Siidan then asked, ‘how is the leg HarpsArgon?’
‘It was just a crease I can’t believe he emptied that canon and didn’t seriously hurt or kill anyone’, said HA.
‘Well if you must resort to panic fire I always say do it up close and personal’, said BlackAce.
‘Panic firing is a waste of ammo’, returned Killer.
‘I see you missed this ones head K’ said Moulin.
‘Only because I wasn’t aiming for it. Hey this surface sure makes dragging bodies easy!’ replied the Sniper.
‘Race you to the module for a tally’, said Riddle pulling Bad Days body ahead.
‘You’re on big ears’, said the Sniper hastily dragging Argumentative after him to various shouts of encouragement and side bets.
Siidan chuckled, well there was nothing like a bit of friendly competition to get a boring job done quicker and boost morale. It was good to see the lads back doing what they did best - totally fekking other people up!
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Fri, 2. Nov 07, 13:40, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 73 – All Free and Trapped - Like Words Bound to a Page
If it hadn’t been for the dire noise and the tremors Alanis would have been convinced somebody onboard had a poor sense of humour due to that bloody red light. Despite all Sha’s shrieks and shouts nobody was telling her anything. Something was happening on the Station if the erratic Star fully understood the prolonged nature of this (she now suspected widespread general) state of alert - something seriously significant! At first Alanis had worked hard to delude herself - that the incident was beneath her notice - an unimportant localised phenomena: perhaps an attempted jail break by the evil traitor Rud (that would play well as a subplot to a slightly coloured quasi historical PVR of recent events here) or some other brig related fracas like a petty prison riot. However, now Sha firmly believed she had been trying too hard to convince herself everything was fine overall and against her cool now strongly feared it was entirely otherwise!
As a result of her suspicions Sha could sense herself starting to slide into a familiar dark place she didn‘t want to go, a place she spent all her waking moments avoiding! The PVR Star was used to being either the focus of, or certainly at the very least having easy access to, all the gossip. Now Sha felt like she was being tortured by sensory deprivation and set upon by the potential terrors that are only born of a truly twisted imagination. Alanis was at last finding her isolation and captivity to be an intolerable imposition! For the first time the PVR mistress of many individual desires felt more like a miserable and anxious prisoner instead of just herself playing out another one of her tightly scripted roles this time in an even more intimate venue than usual. Venting her ire with a long stream of shocking profanities and a few real tears of frustration that leaked loose Sha kicked the padded door once more then paced around like a restless feline predator with its fur standing on end and its claws extended.
The Actress after all her various activities was also getting rather hungry and thirsty - just what kind of a shabby hotel was AFC 4 running here anyway - but her stomach was hardly a good enough distraction from the wider matter. Why, questioned Alanis, hadn’t she been rescued yet by her army of lawyers? While both blind and death to her wider environment - just how much danger was she in here? Admittedly the Star knew she had instructed her team not to free her too soon - as that could potentially play out badly in the media only adding to a myth that she was a spoilt, rich, favoured, empty headed female who operated above the law - no she had to be seen as a victim of her own appetites, stupidities, grievous history and vulnerabilities. Not a puppet master or stainless steel antagonist. Nonetheless the current timing of the looked for intervention - given an apparently developing crisis - was beginning to rip the rear out of the whole situation, especially if the entire complex really was as unstable as it currently felt!
As more time slipped by and sporadic vibrations and shakes continued Sha got more and more concerned. They wouldn‘t have abandoned their - Empress of the Eye - to the mercy of the fates to save their own skins would they: damn right they would! These shuddering movements were beginning to feel like nothing less than broad structural events bringing back unpleasant recollections of the frantic fall of Lathe’s Pirate Base. Alanis would never forget her flight from that hell spawned if devastatingly brief Paranid Assault. Somehow Alanis decided she had to get out of this lockup and off this unstable station? Flee these empty lethal places and return to a nice safe planet like Argon Prime for a bit of rest and recuperation before her next big project.
Gregor had insisted on being Goner Transported to the CAO once he was back on the inter-link. Now the AFC 4 Administrator was at the helm running the evacuation in person. Recording his performance was a bunch of remote cameras (for the wider benefit of posterity). The complexes Administrator settling in like a King in his throne room immediately after making much of the efforts of the deeds of the skeleton crew that had stoutly managed - just about - to valiantly hold up to the rigours of the emergency so far; despite being robbed of their leaders assistance. Ghia found herself being granted a place of honour at her Commander in Chiefs good right hand side as a proven faithful and capable servant a true ArgonForge asset with a fine career ahead. The female had made a name for herself by stepping up and doing the business and she had a pleasing enough face and soft brown eyes besides. Many interesting possibilities there - for the short term - thought Gregor with one hand firmly caressing the misnamed junior helmsman’s slender shoulder.
Electing to stay on AFC 4 till the last Argon was rescued was a typical flourish of the new and improved Gregor since his dramatic resurrection from the indignities of the Argon Prime media assassination. Staying to the bitter end was a risky plan, but for the soon to be former Administrator the stakes made the bet more than worth it. The solid nividium political capitol Gregor could win with the recorded evidence of his heroic - stalwart - dedication to his last AF post was a fine gamble. The AFC 4 Administrator wasn’t going to let any opportunity of this calibre just slip away from him. This was one show - if Gregor could help it - no one including: Anna, Garrin, Alanis, Ghia or even The Grim Reaper himself (real, imagined or contrived) would get an opportunity to upstage!
Somehow it was fitting that AFC 4 not survive him - indeed rather poetic and proper - he would rise like a phoenix from the fiery corporate egg abandoning the useless battered metallic shell that had once protected, but also limited his personal potential growth. The infantile crèche that through greatness alone he was inevitably predestined to rip aside to know true freedom. The future Senator must spread his wings to embrace his wider brethren among the scattered stars of Argon Space. In a way it would be a pity if the station didn’t explode with light to announce (perhaps a better word would be herald) his arrival. It wouldn’t do for his old domain to survive as a cold ignominious tattered perhaps useless piece of wreckage a nuisance obstruction an ugly hazard to navigation - that would hardly amount to a suitable monument to his time here or the desired expected crescendo to what was an otherwise quite satisfying movement (when taken in the round) ever onward and upward! Gregor shockingly found himself wondering if something might not be arranged to ensure the right final outcome from this potential spectacle.
Gregor noticed how the AFC 4 Master of Engineers Bushido Kramer also recently brought in by Goner Transport Device was still avidly wrestling with the structural stress figures across several virtual screens.
‘Well Kramer what do you think?’ asked Gregor.
‘It’s too early to say Administrator’, said the big engineer, ‘I would need to examine some of these highly stressed prime areas he pointed out bright areas on a spinning graphic. Not easy’, he grumbled, ‘not easy at all and even then it would just be an educated guess. So many things could still go wrong I’m drowning in data analysis. I wouldn’t want to find myself without the facility of an emergency goner transport at the moment that is for sure!’
‘Can we risk re-establishing main power?’ questioned the Administrator knowing they couldn’t keep running on local cell stores.
‘Well most of the main conduits are looking good or have already been repaired by automatic remotes with bypass lines. I would say with direct ICCS monitoring and a series of automatic cut off routines in place - the main lines to the central power store could be reinitiated. However, you had better make triple sure the transit system is kept off line along with the factories manufacturing systems - running those could potentially by vibrations and more direct interactions tear this wounded critter apart!’ said BK.
Rud couldn’t believe he had been stuffed into a vacuum suit and was in the process of being forcibly evacuated off AFC 4 ahead of many, many others. The Universal Asylum was just going out of its way to mock him at every possible opportunity in an alarmingly cyclic manner, admittedly it was just a question of his location when the crisis occurred but it was still a very unfunny sketch. How ironic that the guards that now double checked the pressure seals and readings on the very vacuum suit of the shackled figure before them - had moments before - been escorting the same captive to a trial. A trial whose end result would have been the same Rud Chakr being forced to eat hard space through just such an orifice as the airlock he now faced, but without the obvious comfort and benefit of just such a utilitarian contrivance as that his guards now idiotically fretted over for the Traitors well being. Rud was pretty sure he was cursed by some dark demon of irony. Despite all these antics to preserve his existence these buffoons were only sustaining him to murder him later on after another cruel and unexpected delay. Maybe it was dharma Rud had been a pretty poor Traitor now ArgonForge were proving pretty rubbish Executioners!
One of the most painful things about all this was the former clerks utter internal confusion: on one hand desperately happy for even this minor reprieve, on the other hand eager to die and get the shockingly vindictive wait over with! Even through all the rough and tumble of the on Station panic and increased anger of his fellow evacuees Rud was cocooned and shifted like some precious cargo both worthy and purposeful of saving from such wrath. It was almost too much for the - all but condemned - Argon to keep a grip on as he found himself floated out the airlock tethered to two jet propelled guards like a banner between two flag poles.
Maybe it was due to this growing insulation of bewildered incomprehension that despite all his bitterness Rud found his mind falling into a kind of numb silence. Gods but it was beautiful in a terrifyingly stark manner especially when you faced away into the comparative nothingness. This was the Traitors first ever real space walk although he had done many drills in the simulator (clerks had little reason to be actually going EVA for real although everyone was supposed to do this at least once as part of their training Rud had somehow always contrived to duck out - having been afraid of that sinister darkness).
Now Rud Chakr regretted not going outside in a vacuum suit sooner - it was amazing perhaps because he could now let go - unlike anything else he had ever experienced everything just dwindled away into pale insignificance nothing seemed to matter and yet his life seemed to fall into a far sharper focus. The Argon Prisoner found himself thinking that it was a little like looking out across the widest possible prairie or the greatest imaginable ocean only so much more. Perhaps it would be a marvellous thing to touch that emptiness raw for an instant even if it did kill you with forever’s embrace! Floating across on his tether (for the first time in his life) Rud was actually content to be in space.
Instead of feeling somehow trapped and confined as he had felt trapped and confined all his life by stations or ships or by his fathers debts, now as words can be loosed while remaining forever bound immutable on a page Rud although physically tethered felt free as if his mind had momentarily slipped all restraints to taste the opposite of its containment. It was an enclosed rigid state that Rud imagined was his normal mode of operation, his mind - squeezed in under the bone - bent out of shape by burdens he had never asked for (been able to cope with) or wanted! Yet here for a moment just drifting, travelling, sailing along as a passive passenger none of these old woes seemed to matter - just to exist, to feel and even not to feel, or was it actually not to think and just be - was enough!
‘So boss what now?’ asked BlackAce looking at the untidily piled up mass of bodies and equipment within the wrecked module.
‘A proper clean up said Siidan before this camera and sensor Block gets circumvented. Riddle hook me up to the lost for words on our field unit’, demanded Siidan.
A brief moment later Riddle patched Siidan in, ‘LFW this is Triple Zero Pitch here I have a time critical emergency. I’ve come across a sabotaged crashed Transit Module that is rigged to blow. I would be very grateful if you would transport it out into space and safely dispose of it, over.’
‘Scanning your location - module located - I’m not getting any anomalous readings from the vehicle, over’, noted the LFW communications officer.
‘Listen lad I’m looking a couple of scan neutralising - sealed unit - limpet mines in the face here’, rattled off Siidan, ‘trust me, this modules hot and counting down - I have no intent to go boom to get you a fek wit scan confirmation, over’, stated Siidan.
‘Sorry sir, please stand clear isolating objects mass, Goner Transport initiated. Rerouting a patrol for immediate demolition duty, LWF over’, said the communications officer.
‘Excellent, thanks for the - timely - assist, have a good one. Triple Zero Pitch out’, said Siidan.
‘Smooth’, said Knot immediately after the GTD light show had ended.
‘Not a bad send off for a combatant either’, noted Moulin seeing in her minds eye the module being raked by Argon Nova star fires prior to exploding into space dust.
‘That’s certainly one in the Oracles eye’, agreed Killer with a wolfish grin while adjusting the sight on his sniper rifle.
‘It’s always nice to be on the inside of a potential future mystery’, said Riddle checking over the purloined enemies scanner, ‘looks like our boys were following a trace too.’
‘A trace that’s interesting. HarpsArgon go see what the sit-rep is with that hatch over there’, ordered Siidan.
‘On it sir’, replied HarpsArgon.
‘The rest of you keep sharp, and don’t forget the rear - lets not do a Storm Wraith’, finished the Damned Leader, ‘Like Fay says ‘others mistakes are a blessing, our own a curse!’’
Once Carl arrived safely in the Foyer of the Harbour Tower East and exited GTD arrivals he immediately ignored everything else to patch back into the cameras and scanners of the section he had just vacated. The Commander was eager to know if the Marines had registered his GTD and whether the Wraiths would dare to illegally crack that hatch?
Watching the action he was shocked to see how the newcomers were deploying around the module as if about to enter a full on engagement. Carl was even more taken aback when all his surveillance collapsed due to an illegally recycling electronic block. A block that was holding off even the mighty ICCS’s immediate attempts to reactivate its equipment.
Somebody didn’t want their actions monitored or recorded. Carls temper flared, how dare these sons of a Teladi prostitute - unruly guests - tamper with his ArgonForge security systems during a crisis of this magnitude heads, he promised darkly to himself, would roll for this one! However, Carl also had other concerns including locating Anna since her link was off he decided to try her likely conspirators.
‘CSD can you get me a fix on Lt. Constable Elaen and or the Chief of RJL Security Ravn, over.’, requested Carl.
After a brief moment CSD replied, ‘Sorry sir, but they also seem to be powered down and incommunicado - sans station regulations - in fact we have been trying to reach the Lt. Constable to reactivate her under the emergency protocol without success since the re-establishment of the network sir, over.’
‘In that case CSD please do a camera search for me. Start in the access tunnel area behind that hatch you sealed (for - that - pressure differential) earlier and run it in the direction of Harbour Tower East Foyer, over’, commanded Carl.
‘Ok Commander’, said the CSD, ‘running the sequence now sir…I have them, patching audio visual to your computer pad now Sir, over.’
Carl pulled up the images and said, ‘thanks, out!’ Elaen some RJL guards Anna and Ravn were all making their merry way towards him via the aforementioned access way. Checking an active map they didn’t have too far to go. With Anna in his inquisitive and protective custody maybe he would soon be getting a few answers.
‘Uhhnnhnnrrr’, coughed a hovering figure.
‘Ah Lomis I suspect you are impatient for some orders’, said the Commander to the leader of his apparently six Argon strong strike team.
At this point Garrin’s party burst in the front entrance causing a major stir given their state of heavy armament. A lot of weaponry was immediately pointed in there direction and the favour returned by the dogs.
‘Hey, hey take it easy Commander its just me your friendly local courier and RJL T2. What’s with the heavies?’ asked G.
‘No hard feelings Garrin but you had better have a permit for that or some good excuses ready. I’m still the law on this ailing crate the last I noticed - kindly lower them’, said Carl.
‘Fek me’, said Garrin lowering the carbine he had been gesturing around wildly with in his enthusiasm, ‘just a precaution in case the locals got all itchy and stampeded on our assets. Thought most of you guys were busy leaving or coordinating the evacuation. From our end back at the docking bay it looked like Anna, Elaen and the lads were stuck - so we came a rescuing - then they started making good progress again so we came direct here.’
‘Things have gotten a little complicated G. To prevent any accidents I need you and your crew to disarm until we have had a little chat and everything is cleared up. Nice and slowly now’, said Carl.
‘Carl you really aren‘t joking. Ok, don’t sweat it - like I mean…seriously, we aren’t here to start an altercation. I’ll just unclip it here and set it on the floor’, said Garrin as he started hearing grumbling from the rest of the guys.
‘Err you too’, said Garrin, ‘look Carl is The Argon here we don’t want to be making any trouble. Hell he’s ah… quite close to your boss you know!’ said G his face reddening slightly.
The Commander felt his own temperature rising did G have to make it sound so… nudge nudge, wink wink!
Reluctantly Dell, Rutger and Alex complied moving away from the hastily formed stacks of weapons. The armament was then collected by two members of Carls Team while the rest of the Commanders forces kept the new arrivals under constant guard - all this before the wide eyed consternation of the local Tower security.
‘What the hell is going on Carl’, asked Garrin.
‘Anna is in a spot of trouble. Look it could be something or it could be nothing, but I’m worried and other very serious people seem to be worried too - which trust me is worrying in itself! I want to take Anna into my protective custody until this matter is sorted out. Look Garrin something is going on - the Marines around here have an unhealthy interest in your partner (perhaps even from way before, and beyond the obvious, now I think about it!) We now know what happened to Anna’s Mother its pretty strange G, apparently she defected to the Split!’, explained Carl.
Garrin stared at the Commander utterly incredulous, ‘The Split?’, he said.
‘I know it came out of no where’, said Carl, ‘unfortunately if it is true in some peoples minds it will put big question marks around Anna’s loyalty. Given the never quite explained events around the Treason Trial even perhaps this attack on the station… well I don’t know, but I‘m done being kept in the dark and fed manure. I plan to find out just what the hell is going on here on My Station while there is still something of it and my jurisdiction left and nobody and nothing is going to get in my way - not RJL, not the Marines, not even any god cursed ANI stooges! You see Garrin I have this feeling deep in my gut now that some inconsiderate types have been running operations here I haven’t been informed about, well it has just about become need to know time. So if you have anything you personally would like to unload?’
‘Hell not me, what you see is what you get. Damn if we are playing confessions I’m here because I thought Elaen was trapped back there. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I just turned tail and left El behind. It may sound stupid but it would have been even worse because we aren’t together anymore: like I left her to her fate out of a petty act of heartless revenge! I know nothing about The Split, or hidden operations. Carl, are you sure you didn’t just bang your head on a fallen bulkhead support beam on the way over here?’ questioned G with a half mocking grin.
‘If only I had’, said the Commander.
At last the main docking bay doors split and glided apart. After all Fays engineers efforts the two largely transparent doors moved asunder with an entirely unsatisfying ease as if activated by the mere press of a button. Fay watching via camera could perceive no difference to their normal visually frictionless grace. With the way now clear the Lightning Spears Troop Transport immediately drifted in to illegally park in the crowded civilian bay between two other ships disgorging its full compliment of crab like Marines from a dozen exits. The Lightning Spears were super heavy duty assault troops in powered reticulated vacuum capable armoured suits. The fully encasing bulky units gave them the appearance of evil towering all black robots. With the station wounded Fay didn’t want to take any further risks with the projects security. The drones would be ordered to suicide in all likelihood the Queen as well although that one might just be extracted along with Anna her lure the data and any other game giving away bits of equipment.
Fay had to be careful she knew there was still a chance that Sven was behind the collision directly or indirectly. The whole crisis might have been manufactured to seize Anna, the Core or both. Exactly how much the Oracle had divined of the overall projects nature was still a matter of some conjecture. Then there was the remote but still existent possibility that Anna had already been subverted and was acting as a double agent even while the incentive burned in her veins: after all some hooks went beyond personal survival - such as the obvious one of loyalty to ones family!
Clearly odd things were going on within the station. What had that requested removal and destruction of a Transit Module by the Lost for Words been about. Fay hoped Siidan wasn’t in over his head - that Argon had always gotten the job done, but this was not a standard clean military operation. Siidan could be single minded in extremis, Fay wondered if she had made a very big mistake. Unfortunately as much as she wanted to open up communications Siidan would be able to work best in the dark and Fay had to retain some separation just in case she needed some plausible denial!
At least her operative had a firm warrant to serve much stronger than any suspicion of treason that might be used by others due to Anna’s blood connection to her Mother alone. Siidan was to hold Anna for questioning in relation to the events around the Reaper Riot - using the suspicion that the RJL Administrator had deliberately provoked an affray that caused substantive injuries and damages for mercenary reasons of corporate publicity! Legally it was a far more solid accusation one Fay could even back up with as much or as little evidence as might be required.
The Damned Commander was sure she could even convince Anna to confess to either corporate negligence or a deliberate plot - these were mere tactical decisions to be made later. Nonetheless Fay hoped all these formal necessities (undertaken to keep Anna out of Sven’s immediate clutches) might yet be surplus to requirements. If the Legion of the Damned Commander in Chief was lucky AFC 4 would be fully evacuated including Sven (what excuse could he give for staying on) and she would be able to work with impunity under her established wider ANI directive. Besides she had the greater might too with the Lost for Words hovering nearby and the Lightning Spears now on site. If Sven tried to pull jurisdictional precedence over his race relations remit Fay would let him interview Anna if he wanted (whilst Fays prisoner remained firmly safe within her own custody for her prior offence). The ancient saying still held as true today as it ever did ‘possession is nine tenths of the law.’
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 73 – All Free and Trapped - Like Words Bound to a Page
If it hadn’t been for the dire noise and the tremors Alanis would have been convinced somebody onboard had a poor sense of humour due to that bloody red light. Despite all Sha’s shrieks and shouts nobody was telling her anything. Something was happening on the Station if the erratic Star fully understood the prolonged nature of this (she now suspected widespread general) state of alert - something seriously significant! At first Alanis had worked hard to delude herself - that the incident was beneath her notice - an unimportant localised phenomena: perhaps an attempted jail break by the evil traitor Rud (that would play well as a subplot to a slightly coloured quasi historical PVR of recent events here) or some other brig related fracas like a petty prison riot. However, now Sha firmly believed she had been trying too hard to convince herself everything was fine overall and against her cool now strongly feared it was entirely otherwise!
As a result of her suspicions Sha could sense herself starting to slide into a familiar dark place she didn‘t want to go, a place she spent all her waking moments avoiding! The PVR Star was used to being either the focus of, or certainly at the very least having easy access to, all the gossip. Now Sha felt like she was being tortured by sensory deprivation and set upon by the potential terrors that are only born of a truly twisted imagination. Alanis was at last finding her isolation and captivity to be an intolerable imposition! For the first time the PVR mistress of many individual desires felt more like a miserable and anxious prisoner instead of just herself playing out another one of her tightly scripted roles this time in an even more intimate venue than usual. Venting her ire with a long stream of shocking profanities and a few real tears of frustration that leaked loose Sha kicked the padded door once more then paced around like a restless feline predator with its fur standing on end and its claws extended.
The Actress after all her various activities was also getting rather hungry and thirsty - just what kind of a shabby hotel was AFC 4 running here anyway - but her stomach was hardly a good enough distraction from the wider matter. Why, questioned Alanis, hadn’t she been rescued yet by her army of lawyers? While both blind and death to her wider environment - just how much danger was she in here? Admittedly the Star knew she had instructed her team not to free her too soon - as that could potentially play out badly in the media only adding to a myth that she was a spoilt, rich, favoured, empty headed female who operated above the law - no she had to be seen as a victim of her own appetites, stupidities, grievous history and vulnerabilities. Not a puppet master or stainless steel antagonist. Nonetheless the current timing of the looked for intervention - given an apparently developing crisis - was beginning to rip the rear out of the whole situation, especially if the entire complex really was as unstable as it currently felt!
As more time slipped by and sporadic vibrations and shakes continued Sha got more and more concerned. They wouldn‘t have abandoned their - Empress of the Eye - to the mercy of the fates to save their own skins would they: damn right they would! These shuddering movements were beginning to feel like nothing less than broad structural events bringing back unpleasant recollections of the frantic fall of Lathe’s Pirate Base. Alanis would never forget her flight from that hell spawned if devastatingly brief Paranid Assault. Somehow Alanis decided she had to get out of this lockup and off this unstable station? Flee these empty lethal places and return to a nice safe planet like Argon Prime for a bit of rest and recuperation before her next big project.
Gregor had insisted on being Goner Transported to the CAO once he was back on the inter-link. Now the AFC 4 Administrator was at the helm running the evacuation in person. Recording his performance was a bunch of remote cameras (for the wider benefit of posterity). The complexes Administrator settling in like a King in his throne room immediately after making much of the efforts of the deeds of the skeleton crew that had stoutly managed - just about - to valiantly hold up to the rigours of the emergency so far; despite being robbed of their leaders assistance. Ghia found herself being granted a place of honour at her Commander in Chiefs good right hand side as a proven faithful and capable servant a true ArgonForge asset with a fine career ahead. The female had made a name for herself by stepping up and doing the business and she had a pleasing enough face and soft brown eyes besides. Many interesting possibilities there - for the short term - thought Gregor with one hand firmly caressing the misnamed junior helmsman’s slender shoulder.
Electing to stay on AFC 4 till the last Argon was rescued was a typical flourish of the new and improved Gregor since his dramatic resurrection from the indignities of the Argon Prime media assassination. Staying to the bitter end was a risky plan, but for the soon to be former Administrator the stakes made the bet more than worth it. The solid nividium political capitol Gregor could win with the recorded evidence of his heroic - stalwart - dedication to his last AF post was a fine gamble. The AFC 4 Administrator wasn’t going to let any opportunity of this calibre just slip away from him. This was one show - if Gregor could help it - no one including: Anna, Garrin, Alanis, Ghia or even The Grim Reaper himself (real, imagined or contrived) would get an opportunity to upstage!
Somehow it was fitting that AFC 4 not survive him - indeed rather poetic and proper - he would rise like a phoenix from the fiery corporate egg abandoning the useless battered metallic shell that had once protected, but also limited his personal potential growth. The infantile crèche that through greatness alone he was inevitably predestined to rip aside to know true freedom. The future Senator must spread his wings to embrace his wider brethren among the scattered stars of Argon Space. In a way it would be a pity if the station didn’t explode with light to announce (perhaps a better word would be herald) his arrival. It wouldn’t do for his old domain to survive as a cold ignominious tattered perhaps useless piece of wreckage a nuisance obstruction an ugly hazard to navigation - that would hardly amount to a suitable monument to his time here or the desired expected crescendo to what was an otherwise quite satisfying movement (when taken in the round) ever onward and upward! Gregor shockingly found himself wondering if something might not be arranged to ensure the right final outcome from this potential spectacle.
Gregor noticed how the AFC 4 Master of Engineers Bushido Kramer also recently brought in by Goner Transport Device was still avidly wrestling with the structural stress figures across several virtual screens.
‘Well Kramer what do you think?’ asked Gregor.
‘It’s too early to say Administrator’, said the big engineer, ‘I would need to examine some of these highly stressed prime areas he pointed out bright areas on a spinning graphic. Not easy’, he grumbled, ‘not easy at all and even then it would just be an educated guess. So many things could still go wrong I’m drowning in data analysis. I wouldn’t want to find myself without the facility of an emergency goner transport at the moment that is for sure!’
‘Can we risk re-establishing main power?’ questioned the Administrator knowing they couldn’t keep running on local cell stores.
‘Well most of the main conduits are looking good or have already been repaired by automatic remotes with bypass lines. I would say with direct ICCS monitoring and a series of automatic cut off routines in place - the main lines to the central power store could be reinitiated. However, you had better make triple sure the transit system is kept off line along with the factories manufacturing systems - running those could potentially by vibrations and more direct interactions tear this wounded critter apart!’ said BK.
Rud couldn’t believe he had been stuffed into a vacuum suit and was in the process of being forcibly evacuated off AFC 4 ahead of many, many others. The Universal Asylum was just going out of its way to mock him at every possible opportunity in an alarmingly cyclic manner, admittedly it was just a question of his location when the crisis occurred but it was still a very unfunny sketch. How ironic that the guards that now double checked the pressure seals and readings on the very vacuum suit of the shackled figure before them - had moments before - been escorting the same captive to a trial. A trial whose end result would have been the same Rud Chakr being forced to eat hard space through just such an orifice as the airlock he now faced, but without the obvious comfort and benefit of just such a utilitarian contrivance as that his guards now idiotically fretted over for the Traitors well being. Rud was pretty sure he was cursed by some dark demon of irony. Despite all these antics to preserve his existence these buffoons were only sustaining him to murder him later on after another cruel and unexpected delay. Maybe it was dharma Rud had been a pretty poor Traitor now ArgonForge were proving pretty rubbish Executioners!
One of the most painful things about all this was the former clerks utter internal confusion: on one hand desperately happy for even this minor reprieve, on the other hand eager to die and get the shockingly vindictive wait over with! Even through all the rough and tumble of the on Station panic and increased anger of his fellow evacuees Rud was cocooned and shifted like some precious cargo both worthy and purposeful of saving from such wrath. It was almost too much for the - all but condemned - Argon to keep a grip on as he found himself floated out the airlock tethered to two jet propelled guards like a banner between two flag poles.
Maybe it was due to this growing insulation of bewildered incomprehension that despite all his bitterness Rud found his mind falling into a kind of numb silence. Gods but it was beautiful in a terrifyingly stark manner especially when you faced away into the comparative nothingness. This was the Traitors first ever real space walk although he had done many drills in the simulator (clerks had little reason to be actually going EVA for real although everyone was supposed to do this at least once as part of their training Rud had somehow always contrived to duck out - having been afraid of that sinister darkness).
Now Rud Chakr regretted not going outside in a vacuum suit sooner - it was amazing perhaps because he could now let go - unlike anything else he had ever experienced everything just dwindled away into pale insignificance nothing seemed to matter and yet his life seemed to fall into a far sharper focus. The Argon Prisoner found himself thinking that it was a little like looking out across the widest possible prairie or the greatest imaginable ocean only so much more. Perhaps it would be a marvellous thing to touch that emptiness raw for an instant even if it did kill you with forever’s embrace! Floating across on his tether (for the first time in his life) Rud was actually content to be in space.
Instead of feeling somehow trapped and confined as he had felt trapped and confined all his life by stations or ships or by his fathers debts, now as words can be loosed while remaining forever bound immutable on a page Rud although physically tethered felt free as if his mind had momentarily slipped all restraints to taste the opposite of its containment. It was an enclosed rigid state that Rud imagined was his normal mode of operation, his mind - squeezed in under the bone - bent out of shape by burdens he had never asked for (been able to cope with) or wanted! Yet here for a moment just drifting, travelling, sailing along as a passive passenger none of these old woes seemed to matter - just to exist, to feel and even not to feel, or was it actually not to think and just be - was enough!
‘So boss what now?’ asked BlackAce looking at the untidily piled up mass of bodies and equipment within the wrecked module.
‘A proper clean up said Siidan before this camera and sensor Block gets circumvented. Riddle hook me up to the lost for words on our field unit’, demanded Siidan.
A brief moment later Riddle patched Siidan in, ‘LFW this is Triple Zero Pitch here I have a time critical emergency. I’ve come across a sabotaged crashed Transit Module that is rigged to blow. I would be very grateful if you would transport it out into space and safely dispose of it, over.’
‘Scanning your location - module located - I’m not getting any anomalous readings from the vehicle, over’, noted the LFW communications officer.
‘Listen lad I’m looking a couple of scan neutralising - sealed unit - limpet mines in the face here’, rattled off Siidan, ‘trust me, this modules hot and counting down - I have no intent to go boom to get you a fek wit scan confirmation, over’, stated Siidan.
‘Sorry sir, please stand clear isolating objects mass, Goner Transport initiated. Rerouting a patrol for immediate demolition duty, LWF over’, said the communications officer.
‘Excellent, thanks for the - timely - assist, have a good one. Triple Zero Pitch out’, said Siidan.
‘Smooth’, said Knot immediately after the GTD light show had ended.
‘Not a bad send off for a combatant either’, noted Moulin seeing in her minds eye the module being raked by Argon Nova star fires prior to exploding into space dust.
‘That’s certainly one in the Oracles eye’, agreed Killer with a wolfish grin while adjusting the sight on his sniper rifle.
‘It’s always nice to be on the inside of a potential future mystery’, said Riddle checking over the purloined enemies scanner, ‘looks like our boys were following a trace too.’
‘A trace that’s interesting. HarpsArgon go see what the sit-rep is with that hatch over there’, ordered Siidan.
‘On it sir’, replied HarpsArgon.
‘The rest of you keep sharp, and don’t forget the rear - lets not do a Storm Wraith’, finished the Damned Leader, ‘Like Fay says ‘others mistakes are a blessing, our own a curse!’’
Once Carl arrived safely in the Foyer of the Harbour Tower East and exited GTD arrivals he immediately ignored everything else to patch back into the cameras and scanners of the section he had just vacated. The Commander was eager to know if the Marines had registered his GTD and whether the Wraiths would dare to illegally crack that hatch?
Watching the action he was shocked to see how the newcomers were deploying around the module as if about to enter a full on engagement. Carl was even more taken aback when all his surveillance collapsed due to an illegally recycling electronic block. A block that was holding off even the mighty ICCS’s immediate attempts to reactivate its equipment.
Somebody didn’t want their actions monitored or recorded. Carls temper flared, how dare these sons of a Teladi prostitute - unruly guests - tamper with his ArgonForge security systems during a crisis of this magnitude heads, he promised darkly to himself, would roll for this one! However, Carl also had other concerns including locating Anna since her link was off he decided to try her likely conspirators.
‘CSD can you get me a fix on Lt. Constable Elaen and or the Chief of RJL Security Ravn, over.’, requested Carl.
After a brief moment CSD replied, ‘Sorry sir, but they also seem to be powered down and incommunicado - sans station regulations - in fact we have been trying to reach the Lt. Constable to reactivate her under the emergency protocol without success since the re-establishment of the network sir, over.’
‘In that case CSD please do a camera search for me. Start in the access tunnel area behind that hatch you sealed (for - that - pressure differential) earlier and run it in the direction of Harbour Tower East Foyer, over’, commanded Carl.
‘Ok Commander’, said the CSD, ‘running the sequence now sir…I have them, patching audio visual to your computer pad now Sir, over.’
Carl pulled up the images and said, ‘thanks, out!’ Elaen some RJL guards Anna and Ravn were all making their merry way towards him via the aforementioned access way. Checking an active map they didn’t have too far to go. With Anna in his inquisitive and protective custody maybe he would soon be getting a few answers.
‘Uhhnnhnnrrr’, coughed a hovering figure.
‘Ah Lomis I suspect you are impatient for some orders’, said the Commander to the leader of his apparently six Argon strong strike team.
At this point Garrin’s party burst in the front entrance causing a major stir given their state of heavy armament. A lot of weaponry was immediately pointed in there direction and the favour returned by the dogs.
‘Hey, hey take it easy Commander its just me your friendly local courier and RJL T2. What’s with the heavies?’ asked G.
‘No hard feelings Garrin but you had better have a permit for that or some good excuses ready. I’m still the law on this ailing crate the last I noticed - kindly lower them’, said Carl.
‘Fek me’, said Garrin lowering the carbine he had been gesturing around wildly with in his enthusiasm, ‘just a precaution in case the locals got all itchy and stampeded on our assets. Thought most of you guys were busy leaving or coordinating the evacuation. From our end back at the docking bay it looked like Anna, Elaen and the lads were stuck - so we came a rescuing - then they started making good progress again so we came direct here.’
‘Things have gotten a little complicated G. To prevent any accidents I need you and your crew to disarm until we have had a little chat and everything is cleared up. Nice and slowly now’, said Carl.
‘Carl you really aren‘t joking. Ok, don’t sweat it - like I mean…seriously, we aren’t here to start an altercation. I’ll just unclip it here and set it on the floor’, said Garrin as he started hearing grumbling from the rest of the guys.
‘Err you too’, said Garrin, ‘look Carl is The Argon here we don’t want to be making any trouble. Hell he’s ah… quite close to your boss you know!’ said G his face reddening slightly.
The Commander felt his own temperature rising did G have to make it sound so… nudge nudge, wink wink!
Reluctantly Dell, Rutger and Alex complied moving away from the hastily formed stacks of weapons. The armament was then collected by two members of Carls Team while the rest of the Commanders forces kept the new arrivals under constant guard - all this before the wide eyed consternation of the local Tower security.
‘What the hell is going on Carl’, asked Garrin.
‘Anna is in a spot of trouble. Look it could be something or it could be nothing, but I’m worried and other very serious people seem to be worried too - which trust me is worrying in itself! I want to take Anna into my protective custody until this matter is sorted out. Look Garrin something is going on - the Marines around here have an unhealthy interest in your partner (perhaps even from way before, and beyond the obvious, now I think about it!) We now know what happened to Anna’s Mother its pretty strange G, apparently she defected to the Split!’, explained Carl.
Garrin stared at the Commander utterly incredulous, ‘The Split?’, he said.
‘I know it came out of no where’, said Carl, ‘unfortunately if it is true in some peoples minds it will put big question marks around Anna’s loyalty. Given the never quite explained events around the Treason Trial even perhaps this attack on the station… well I don’t know, but I‘m done being kept in the dark and fed manure. I plan to find out just what the hell is going on here on My Station while there is still something of it and my jurisdiction left and nobody and nothing is going to get in my way - not RJL, not the Marines, not even any god cursed ANI stooges! You see Garrin I have this feeling deep in my gut now that some inconsiderate types have been running operations here I haven’t been informed about, well it has just about become need to know time. So if you have anything you personally would like to unload?’
‘Hell not me, what you see is what you get. Damn if we are playing confessions I’m here because I thought Elaen was trapped back there. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I just turned tail and left El behind. It may sound stupid but it would have been even worse because we aren’t together anymore: like I left her to her fate out of a petty act of heartless revenge! I know nothing about The Split, or hidden operations. Carl, are you sure you didn’t just bang your head on a fallen bulkhead support beam on the way over here?’ questioned G with a half mocking grin.
‘If only I had’, said the Commander.
At last the main docking bay doors split and glided apart. After all Fays engineers efforts the two largely transparent doors moved asunder with an entirely unsatisfying ease as if activated by the mere press of a button. Fay watching via camera could perceive no difference to their normal visually frictionless grace. With the way now clear the Lightning Spears Troop Transport immediately drifted in to illegally park in the crowded civilian bay between two other ships disgorging its full compliment of crab like Marines from a dozen exits. The Lightning Spears were super heavy duty assault troops in powered reticulated vacuum capable armoured suits. The fully encasing bulky units gave them the appearance of evil towering all black robots. With the station wounded Fay didn’t want to take any further risks with the projects security. The drones would be ordered to suicide in all likelihood the Queen as well although that one might just be extracted along with Anna her lure the data and any other game giving away bits of equipment.
Fay had to be careful she knew there was still a chance that Sven was behind the collision directly or indirectly. The whole crisis might have been manufactured to seize Anna, the Core or both. Exactly how much the Oracle had divined of the overall projects nature was still a matter of some conjecture. Then there was the remote but still existent possibility that Anna had already been subverted and was acting as a double agent even while the incentive burned in her veins: after all some hooks went beyond personal survival - such as the obvious one of loyalty to ones family!
Clearly odd things were going on within the station. What had that requested removal and destruction of a Transit Module by the Lost for Words been about. Fay hoped Siidan wasn’t in over his head - that Argon had always gotten the job done, but this was not a standard clean military operation. Siidan could be single minded in extremis, Fay wondered if she had made a very big mistake. Unfortunately as much as she wanted to open up communications Siidan would be able to work best in the dark and Fay had to retain some separation just in case she needed some plausible denial!
At least her operative had a firm warrant to serve much stronger than any suspicion of treason that might be used by others due to Anna’s blood connection to her Mother alone. Siidan was to hold Anna for questioning in relation to the events around the Reaper Riot - using the suspicion that the RJL Administrator had deliberately provoked an affray that caused substantive injuries and damages for mercenary reasons of corporate publicity! Legally it was a far more solid accusation one Fay could even back up with as much or as little evidence as might be required.
The Damned Commander was sure she could even convince Anna to confess to either corporate negligence or a deliberate plot - these were mere tactical decisions to be made later. Nonetheless Fay hoped all these formal necessities (undertaken to keep Anna out of Sven’s immediate clutches) might yet be surplus to requirements. If the Legion of the Damned Commander in Chief was lucky AFC 4 would be fully evacuated including Sven (what excuse could he give for staying on) and she would be able to work with impunity under her established wider ANI directive. Besides she had the greater might too with the Lost for Words hovering nearby and the Lightning Spears now on site. If Sven tried to pull jurisdictional precedence over his race relations remit Fay would let him interview Anna if he wanted (whilst Fays prisoner remained firmly safe within her own custody for her prior offence). The ancient saying still held as true today as it ever did ‘possession is nine tenths of the law.’
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Sun, 4. Nov 07, 22:20, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 74 – New Tricks
Carl had the Harbour Tower East’s Security well briefed and on side by the time Anna’s and her own guards arrived. Each member of RJL T1 and the female Administrator as they came in through the entrance with its fixed security arch scanners was shaken down, disarmed and politely asked to join G and his group in the custody of the Police Strike Team.
Ravn was first to go through this processing to Carl’s mild surprise his former employee neither questioned nor did he object to the procedure. Watching via camera on his computer pads screen Carl noticed how Rav remained calm but alert. Anna almost to his annoyance also stayed unconcerned with what looked like almost a trace of a grin. Pax, Pete and Cole managed to convey an air of lazy boredom as if dealing with just one more fully expected tedious item of bureaucracy. El alone appeared at odds with herself when she arrived oscillating between what? Carl was guessing relief for herself and nervousness for the others. Elaen unlike the rest of the party wasn’t searched or disarmed merely informed of her reactivation under the emergency protocol and directed to her superior in the interview cubicle.
‘I’m disappointed Lt. Constable you switched off your earpiece’, said Carl after his subordinate had entered.
‘Ravn ordered a communications blackout Sir. A haunch that something might be attempted just before the trial proper perhaps a snatch. The Chief didn’t want our route back to the office being too easily traced. It was a tactical order from my unit commander of the time, Sir’, said Elaen.
‘I trust you fully appreciate that you are now back on - my team - and as such I expect your full and unquestioning support in any action I have to take’, said Carl.
‘You can rely on me to do my duty to the letter Sir’, said Elaen knowing it was true even if it did complicate her personal life.
‘I didn’t really expect anything less’, said the Commander with a quick smile.
‘About this crisis and the evacua-’ began Elaen.
‘That will have to wait’, returned Carl butting in then activating his communicator to speak out for the benefit of another, ‘send her in’, there was no need to clarify who.
Elaen was standing almost like a guard by the side of the door (inside the cubicle) when Anna entered. The RJL Administrator still looked tired to Carl and was dressed in a functional but unflattering RJL ship suit. To the Commanders irritation she still had that mocking cheeky half grin on her face. Carl found he was grinding his teeth he got the feeling Anna wasn’t going to make his task any easier.
‘You summoned’, said the RJL Administrator, ‘I hope you don’t think I am responsible for all this…’ she waved around under the lurid red light still grinning in that infuriating manner.
‘I don’t know what to think… since I heard about your mother’, said Carl.
‘My Mother?’ replied Anna that smile - to his guilty satisfaction - finally falling away from her face like an ejected pilot tumbling away from his ship.
‘That she had defected to The Split rather than been kidnapped by terrorists’, said Carl far too casually while watching every movement on Anna’s face. Well that looked like genuine disbelief at least.
‘Defected to The Split?’ Anna repeated it sounded even more ridiculous in her own mouth than when the Commander had said it, or was it? The reality was absurd true, but as a ploy, a deliberate ruse? Then something else struck Anna - even more important - if this was the plot then her Mother was very much still alive and was likely to remain so in the foreseeable future that was very good news!
Well that was a storm of emotions and no mistake, thought Carl, why ending in joy?
‘You seem pleased with the outcome’, said the Commander disapprovingly.
‘Damn it Carl if my Mother has - supposedly - defected then she is alive! Nothing will be served by killing Em now. Even held against her will in Split Space Em can still potentially be rescued’, stated Anna confidently. The Split were cruel animals but Anna’s Mother was a valuable and well known research scientist they wouldn’t want to damage the goods - she hoped.
‘What makes you think Emma Dei wants to be rescued or that she is being held against her will. On the broadcast your Mother looked rather pleased with her newfound benefactors’, replied Carl.
‘My Mother is about as political as a stone but what she does believe in runs entirely counter to the Splits philosophy of might is right and she would never be willingly separated from Jake’, returned Anna, ‘The Split can call it what they like - trust me - she is a political prisoner any appearance to the contrary is camera lies and enforced play acting!’
‘So why have the Split captured your Mother Anna? Our previous suspicions no longer seem to quite fit anymore do they? Just what are you and your family involved in? Why are two parties of Marines one from the Carrier The Lost for Words one under the Oracle the infamous Admiral Hale following hot on your heels? What have you been keeping from me?’ asked Carl.
‘Marines belonging to the Admiral. I think you had better give my guards their weapons back Carl we might be needing that extra support. Listen can you instigate a security block here so we can talk fully’, said Anna.
‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea - the Commander having secret conversations with his lover the potential traitor’, said Carl, ‘I think I would rather have anything you have to say at this point on public record. I already feel like I am compromising myself being here dealing with this nonsense while the station is falling apart around our ears. Do you feel those tremors that’s structural or I’m a Teladis grandson.’
‘Carl anything I could tell you worthwhile is classified and not for general dissemination. We don’t have time for niceties not if Hales Marines are about to storm this Tower, not if the Station really is that badly damaged’, explained Anna, ‘you are going to have to chose which risks to take.’
‘Damn you to hell Anna you expect too much from me!’ bellowed the Commander.
Elaen winced knowing that sudden rage all too well.
‘Please Carl a few moments under a block if I was back in my office’, said Anna.
‘It had better be worth it’, said Carl, ‘and Elaen stays as a witness.’
‘You will be putting her life in danger’, said Anna.
‘Danger is an essential part of my job’, butted in Elaen.
While Carl arranged the Security Surveillance Block Anna composed herself. The Professor was worried just how far away were the Admirals Marines perhaps the LFW lot had been sent to waylay them or was Fay panicking about Anna too?
‘Ok done’, said Carl, ‘make it quick comprehensive and concise’, he snapped.
‘Since I need your cooperation’ said Anna, deciding it was time to come clean, ‘I have been working with ANI via ArgonForge R&D from my initial arrival here. Field testing an important new technology. Part of my remit involved keeping this test covert and protecting the science from undesirables both within and without the Argon Federation until all the implications can be ascertained.’
‘My initial ANI connection derives from the very top. Recently I have been liasing through another special unit based on The Lost for Words under the Commander in Chief Fay. Very few people know this for example: Garrin knows nothing. Admiral Hale is without doubt (as you may know) ANI, we also now have reason to believe Sven is interested in illegally procuring access to my project and therefore myself for his own ends. Fay suspects Sven is directly behind my Mothers kidnap - this so called defection of yours. Although operating outside of his proper remit Hale seems determined to get what he wants at any cost to anyone. Maybe the Admiral is even behind this attack on the station, I don‘t know? All I know is whatever happens next Hale cannot be permitted to get what he wants. I’m sorry we have all been roped into a factional struggle within the Argon Intelligence Services myself included. I don’t know all the details - I’m not a spy - not in any way that counts anyway. To be honest I am being kept pretty much out of the loop too. I’m a research Professor and Xeno Archaeologist that ended up in the deep end. Now it is my immediate priority to secure the project from this damaged station - retrieving both my equipment and data - to the safety of my current runner the irascible Fay on her Troop Transport!’ said Anna.
‘So the LFW Marines are your immediate allies’, said Carl.
‘I hope so’, said Anna, ’but due to this business with my Mother even my old friends may no longer entirely trust me so they may be on there way here to do pretty much what you are doing to baby-sit. I imagine half of that fekker Hales purpose is to divide and conquer by casting suspicion on myself via my family.’
‘That’s an incredible story Anna. Do you have any proof of all this?’ asked Carl.
Anna sighed, ‘Carl given the level of secrecy involved you will just have to take what I say on faith. I know it sounds like a confidence trick but its not’, she continued, ‘I can‘t provide much in the nature of proofs - if I could, I would be failing one of my principle directives. Ravn might verify some aspects of - my story Fay perhaps much of the rest - but it has all been need to know, and they may not think you really do (whether I believe your co-operation is useful or necessary or not). Some of these secrets are not mine to give now if I was either a traitor as some might espouse or simply a more irresponsible scientist then what would I care.’
‘This project you say is portable and you need to retrieve it?’ questioned Carl wondering just what all this fuss could be about, and if he could get a look see!
‘In part, the bits that are not may have to be self destructed luckily this can be easily achieved without doing any harm to the station whatsoever’, explained Anna, ‘it is all rather technical. I am not totally sure what I should do myself under these conditions it would be nice to have clear concise instructions, but I think I may have to make my own evaluations and go it alone. It would help if I understood the full current nature of the crisis better. Just how structurally unstable is the complex? How much time do we have to play with? Then there are those Marines belonging to Hale - how long until they show up and just how far are they willing to go? This little interview is delaying our essential packing and narrowing our get away margin.’
‘Will you personally vouch for the RJL guards behaviour if I let them rearm and we all escort you back to your office before continuing on to this Troop Transport. I suppose that would be the same odd vehicle involved in your earlier ah… interviews? You will have to voluntarily submit to stay in my custody until this matter is properly settled. AFC 4 is my jurisdiction Anna not this Admiral Sven’s not even this ANI creature Fay’s’, said the Commander angrily.
‘Careful Carl you don’t want to get caught between these giants when they start hurling rocks at one another. I know what it feels like - I guess my Mother does now too - its not pretty!’ exclaimed the Professor.
‘It is what it is. If you agree - with the time this tight - we had best be going’, noted Carl.
‘Alright I will abide by your conditions but the RJL guards are Black Dog Marines from the Lost for Words so they are Fays as much as mine or Rav‘s!’ warned Anna.
‘Don’t you trust them?’ asked the Commander.
‘I’m not even sure I trust myself anymore’, confessed the former ArgonForge PA.
‘Now that is a feeling I can sympathise with’, agreed Carl.
Well, thought Elaen, that explained a lot but it also cracked the lock on an exit to dangerous territory - Rav seemed to be in on Anna’s revelation. How had the former PA put it something like ‘Ravn could confirm part of her story’ what did that mean? Was Rav involved just through his newfound employment with RJL or could it be something else? Thinking back with hindsight that damn career jump had come very quick, El found she was feeling somewhat nervous wondering how would she feel if her Rav had been somehow involved with all this covert cloak and dagger stuff from the onset? Elaen hoped she wouldn’t have to find out the depths of her emotional response to such a deception, but given the often cruel nature of life the universe and everything the Lt. Constable was already getting that uncomfortable sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and girding herself for the worst.
Garrin hooked his carbine back up again - well that was unexpected.
‘Just remember before you shoot anyone you shouldn’t G that murder on a station means - that very short walk - and just look at all these professional witnesses’, said Carl motioning towards the Strike Team with an evil smirk.
‘Thanks, I will remember that, say err… shouldn’t I be sworn in - deputised or something - if you are going to let me use this at all’, said Garrin.
‘No’, said Carl, ‘I don’t want you getting any ideas. That’s just for last ditch self defence when somebody is trying hard to kill you - your not some vigilante law man.’
‘Any other wonderful advice’, said Garrin.
‘If any shooting starts find something thick to hide behind’, said Ravn laughing.
Yeah, thought G to himself, I’ll just jump in behind you big guy!
In the end being mob handed they had to take two separate lifts up to the office floor. The advanced party being all professional fighters a mix of Carls lads and Black Dogs. Luckily Anna’s office was still safe and secure and looked apart from a few knocked over items undamaged. Once the place was checked over the Dogs immediately began going through their supplies stowing even more items of essential(?) equipment. Arranging the rest for a GTD back to Garrin’s Grim Reaper.
Carl had his Tactical Team secure the corridor opposite the lifts then followed after Anna. After a brief moment of hesitation the RJL Administrator pulled out her box and set the lure doing so within the full view of her guest. It was a gut decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret later if there was a later.
‘This shouldn’t take too long’, said Anna praying that she was right. While the professor waited on the messenger drone to arrive she began tearing around herself stowing bits and pieces of gear into a suspensor assisted backpack Fay had given her earlier. Was this it was she about to abandon AFC 4 and terminate the project? Was the forge doomed what would happen to RJL if its first base of operations went down before its inaugural flight? At least Em was alive Anna reminded herself, small mercies. Where they really going to have to fight there way off the station against Hales Marines that seemed just too unreal.
‘Is that it?’, asked Carl as a tiny device scuttled forward to plug itself in.
Anna didn’t reply she was too busy diving over to fish through the massive download for anything of immediate significance, but it was almost impossible to judge. There was a monstrous amount of data more even than usual and much of it horrific: explosions, fires, decompressed sections, broken power lines, crashed transit modules, spilled crates, bodies, walking wounded, trapped Argons various groups of well armed Marines and thousands of other images the significance of which were utterly lost on Anna. The hive seething with activity the queen looking… odd larger more bloated almost as if she was pregnant with - something different - something bigger. Anna didn’t like the look of that!
‘What’s up’ said Carl seeing the look of worry on his partners face.
‘I don’t know’, said Anna.
‘What is that thing’, it looked like metal but alive - its wasn’t like any drone or bot Carl had ever seen, ‘is that it?’ asked Carl shuddering the big beetle / spider like creature was giving him the creeps the way it pulsated and rippled beneath its shimmering skin.
‘That’s part of it’, said Anna with an incredulous look, ‘but something has changed it’s taken on a lot of mass and is much more animalistic and fluid. I don’t know what it’s doing this is something new. Damn I’ll have to make a closer inspection and take some readings maybe even a sample - then decide what to do!’
‘It looks like its been consuming that bloody strut’, said Carl, ’and you want to cuddle up to it are you crazy. I thought you said you could self destruct it. Is it meant to be eating the Station?’
‘Not like that tiny insignificant scrapings of material to make its drones. I need to know what its doing’, said Anna, ‘you have no idea what the thing - that thing - is attached to is capable of (hell I don’t know either) I hope Febr wasn’t right. Is it demonstrating belated self preservation. Maybe it knows the gig is up and is getting ready to leave the station fek you’re right its too risky I’m going to suicide it.’
Anna keyed in the crude command and the messenger drone scuttled off since she was done with it. Anna activated the remote camera drones she had deposited near the queens nest and watched and waited. Nothing the command should have fed back instantaneously via the core itself one simple basic concept - Total Discovery - and the hive and the queen should melt away to dust as if they never were (a need for secrecy seemed hardwired into them) yet nothing only the steady consumption and Anna could swear now new growth!
‘Its not working. Fay must be an oracle herself sending me those Black Dogs’, said Anna, ‘were going to have to try and blow it, to destroy it the hard way Carl. To put this simply that thing - whatever it is turning into - is linked up to the mother of all alien computers. It looked utterly passive a simple interface to endless storage capacity and a fragile interface at that but this. It might be benign but I don’t see how we can take the risk.’
‘Anna you can’t be serious’, said Carl pulling out his computer pad and punching up some visuals, ‘look at this stress diagram of the complex, and you want to set off more explosions.’
‘Its metal Carl shooting a few slugs at it I’m guessing is probably not going to work’, said Anna, ‘lets hope its not become like the generator - that has proved virtually indestructible!’
‘GTD it into space then blow it’, said Carl, ‘getting it off the station should limit its ability to gain further mass which has to be good for a start.’
‘That might also set it loose what if it is capable of flight’, said Anna.
‘Alright transport it into a container a crate or something’, said Carl.
‘A crate with some serious ordinance attached to it as soon as it arrives we blow it’, said Anna.
At this point Suewyn burst into the room, ‘Anna our corporate blocks have been hacked.’
‘Wait’, said Carl pulling out his pad and using his security codes to interrogate the corporate units functionality only for his pad to go dead as soon as it hooked in to the in built offices security architecture, ‘It looks like a virus’, he explained, ‘its taken out my pad.’
‘I fekkin hope that is Sven’s Marines’, said Anna nervously, ’but I’ve got a very bad feeling it isn’t.’
Carl fiddled behind his ear… nothing.
Seeing the gesture and look on Carls face Anna tried the same. She had finally reclaimed her earpiece from Ravn before they had entered the lift it also now seemed dead, a coincidence Anna didn’t think so!’
‘I guess that means all our communications are completely cut again’, said Sue giving Anna an odd look, ’we had better warn the others.’
‘Sure’, said Anna but when they went to leave they learned the door out to the main office had locked itself and refused to budge.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 74 – New Tricks
Carl had the Harbour Tower East’s Security well briefed and on side by the time Anna’s and her own guards arrived. Each member of RJL T1 and the female Administrator as they came in through the entrance with its fixed security arch scanners was shaken down, disarmed and politely asked to join G and his group in the custody of the Police Strike Team.
Ravn was first to go through this processing to Carl’s mild surprise his former employee neither questioned nor did he object to the procedure. Watching via camera on his computer pads screen Carl noticed how Rav remained calm but alert. Anna almost to his annoyance also stayed unconcerned with what looked like almost a trace of a grin. Pax, Pete and Cole managed to convey an air of lazy boredom as if dealing with just one more fully expected tedious item of bureaucracy. El alone appeared at odds with herself when she arrived oscillating between what? Carl was guessing relief for herself and nervousness for the others. Elaen unlike the rest of the party wasn’t searched or disarmed merely informed of her reactivation under the emergency protocol and directed to her superior in the interview cubicle.
‘I’m disappointed Lt. Constable you switched off your earpiece’, said Carl after his subordinate had entered.
‘Ravn ordered a communications blackout Sir. A haunch that something might be attempted just before the trial proper perhaps a snatch. The Chief didn’t want our route back to the office being too easily traced. It was a tactical order from my unit commander of the time, Sir’, said Elaen.
‘I trust you fully appreciate that you are now back on - my team - and as such I expect your full and unquestioning support in any action I have to take’, said Carl.
‘You can rely on me to do my duty to the letter Sir’, said Elaen knowing it was true even if it did complicate her personal life.
‘I didn’t really expect anything less’, said the Commander with a quick smile.
‘About this crisis and the evacua-’ began Elaen.
‘That will have to wait’, returned Carl butting in then activating his communicator to speak out for the benefit of another, ‘send her in’, there was no need to clarify who.
Elaen was standing almost like a guard by the side of the door (inside the cubicle) when Anna entered. The RJL Administrator still looked tired to Carl and was dressed in a functional but unflattering RJL ship suit. To the Commanders irritation she still had that mocking cheeky half grin on her face. Carl found he was grinding his teeth he got the feeling Anna wasn’t going to make his task any easier.
‘You summoned’, said the RJL Administrator, ‘I hope you don’t think I am responsible for all this…’ she waved around under the lurid red light still grinning in that infuriating manner.
‘I don’t know what to think… since I heard about your mother’, said Carl.
‘My Mother?’ replied Anna that smile - to his guilty satisfaction - finally falling away from her face like an ejected pilot tumbling away from his ship.
‘That she had defected to The Split rather than been kidnapped by terrorists’, said Carl far too casually while watching every movement on Anna’s face. Well that looked like genuine disbelief at least.
‘Defected to The Split?’ Anna repeated it sounded even more ridiculous in her own mouth than when the Commander had said it, or was it? The reality was absurd true, but as a ploy, a deliberate ruse? Then something else struck Anna - even more important - if this was the plot then her Mother was very much still alive and was likely to remain so in the foreseeable future that was very good news!
Well that was a storm of emotions and no mistake, thought Carl, why ending in joy?
‘You seem pleased with the outcome’, said the Commander disapprovingly.
‘Damn it Carl if my Mother has - supposedly - defected then she is alive! Nothing will be served by killing Em now. Even held against her will in Split Space Em can still potentially be rescued’, stated Anna confidently. The Split were cruel animals but Anna’s Mother was a valuable and well known research scientist they wouldn’t want to damage the goods - she hoped.
‘What makes you think Emma Dei wants to be rescued or that she is being held against her will. On the broadcast your Mother looked rather pleased with her newfound benefactors’, replied Carl.
‘My Mother is about as political as a stone but what she does believe in runs entirely counter to the Splits philosophy of might is right and she would never be willingly separated from Jake’, returned Anna, ‘The Split can call it what they like - trust me - she is a political prisoner any appearance to the contrary is camera lies and enforced play acting!’
‘So why have the Split captured your Mother Anna? Our previous suspicions no longer seem to quite fit anymore do they? Just what are you and your family involved in? Why are two parties of Marines one from the Carrier The Lost for Words one under the Oracle the infamous Admiral Hale following hot on your heels? What have you been keeping from me?’ asked Carl.
‘Marines belonging to the Admiral. I think you had better give my guards their weapons back Carl we might be needing that extra support. Listen can you instigate a security block here so we can talk fully’, said Anna.
‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea - the Commander having secret conversations with his lover the potential traitor’, said Carl, ‘I think I would rather have anything you have to say at this point on public record. I already feel like I am compromising myself being here dealing with this nonsense while the station is falling apart around our ears. Do you feel those tremors that’s structural or I’m a Teladis grandson.’
‘Carl anything I could tell you worthwhile is classified and not for general dissemination. We don’t have time for niceties not if Hales Marines are about to storm this Tower, not if the Station really is that badly damaged’, explained Anna, ‘you are going to have to chose which risks to take.’
‘Damn you to hell Anna you expect too much from me!’ bellowed the Commander.
Elaen winced knowing that sudden rage all too well.
‘Please Carl a few moments under a block if I was back in my office’, said Anna.
‘It had better be worth it’, said Carl, ‘and Elaen stays as a witness.’
‘You will be putting her life in danger’, said Anna.
‘Danger is an essential part of my job’, butted in Elaen.
While Carl arranged the Security Surveillance Block Anna composed herself. The Professor was worried just how far away were the Admirals Marines perhaps the LFW lot had been sent to waylay them or was Fay panicking about Anna too?
‘Ok done’, said Carl, ‘make it quick comprehensive and concise’, he snapped.
‘Since I need your cooperation’ said Anna, deciding it was time to come clean, ‘I have been working with ANI via ArgonForge R&D from my initial arrival here. Field testing an important new technology. Part of my remit involved keeping this test covert and protecting the science from undesirables both within and without the Argon Federation until all the implications can be ascertained.’
‘My initial ANI connection derives from the very top. Recently I have been liasing through another special unit based on The Lost for Words under the Commander in Chief Fay. Very few people know this for example: Garrin knows nothing. Admiral Hale is without doubt (as you may know) ANI, we also now have reason to believe Sven is interested in illegally procuring access to my project and therefore myself for his own ends. Fay suspects Sven is directly behind my Mothers kidnap - this so called defection of yours. Although operating outside of his proper remit Hale seems determined to get what he wants at any cost to anyone. Maybe the Admiral is even behind this attack on the station, I don‘t know? All I know is whatever happens next Hale cannot be permitted to get what he wants. I’m sorry we have all been roped into a factional struggle within the Argon Intelligence Services myself included. I don’t know all the details - I’m not a spy - not in any way that counts anyway. To be honest I am being kept pretty much out of the loop too. I’m a research Professor and Xeno Archaeologist that ended up in the deep end. Now it is my immediate priority to secure the project from this damaged station - retrieving both my equipment and data - to the safety of my current runner the irascible Fay on her Troop Transport!’ said Anna.
‘So the LFW Marines are your immediate allies’, said Carl.
‘I hope so’, said Anna, ’but due to this business with my Mother even my old friends may no longer entirely trust me so they may be on there way here to do pretty much what you are doing to baby-sit. I imagine half of that fekker Hales purpose is to divide and conquer by casting suspicion on myself via my family.’
‘That’s an incredible story Anna. Do you have any proof of all this?’ asked Carl.
Anna sighed, ‘Carl given the level of secrecy involved you will just have to take what I say on faith. I know it sounds like a confidence trick but its not’, she continued, ‘I can‘t provide much in the nature of proofs - if I could, I would be failing one of my principle directives. Ravn might verify some aspects of - my story Fay perhaps much of the rest - but it has all been need to know, and they may not think you really do (whether I believe your co-operation is useful or necessary or not). Some of these secrets are not mine to give now if I was either a traitor as some might espouse or simply a more irresponsible scientist then what would I care.’
‘This project you say is portable and you need to retrieve it?’ questioned Carl wondering just what all this fuss could be about, and if he could get a look see!
‘In part, the bits that are not may have to be self destructed luckily this can be easily achieved without doing any harm to the station whatsoever’, explained Anna, ‘it is all rather technical. I am not totally sure what I should do myself under these conditions it would be nice to have clear concise instructions, but I think I may have to make my own evaluations and go it alone. It would help if I understood the full current nature of the crisis better. Just how structurally unstable is the complex? How much time do we have to play with? Then there are those Marines belonging to Hale - how long until they show up and just how far are they willing to go? This little interview is delaying our essential packing and narrowing our get away margin.’
‘Will you personally vouch for the RJL guards behaviour if I let them rearm and we all escort you back to your office before continuing on to this Troop Transport. I suppose that would be the same odd vehicle involved in your earlier ah… interviews? You will have to voluntarily submit to stay in my custody until this matter is properly settled. AFC 4 is my jurisdiction Anna not this Admiral Sven’s not even this ANI creature Fay’s’, said the Commander angrily.
‘Careful Carl you don’t want to get caught between these giants when they start hurling rocks at one another. I know what it feels like - I guess my Mother does now too - its not pretty!’ exclaimed the Professor.
‘It is what it is. If you agree - with the time this tight - we had best be going’, noted Carl.
‘Alright I will abide by your conditions but the RJL guards are Black Dog Marines from the Lost for Words so they are Fays as much as mine or Rav‘s!’ warned Anna.
‘Don’t you trust them?’ asked the Commander.
‘I’m not even sure I trust myself anymore’, confessed the former ArgonForge PA.
‘Now that is a feeling I can sympathise with’, agreed Carl.
Well, thought Elaen, that explained a lot but it also cracked the lock on an exit to dangerous territory - Rav seemed to be in on Anna’s revelation. How had the former PA put it something like ‘Ravn could confirm part of her story’ what did that mean? Was Rav involved just through his newfound employment with RJL or could it be something else? Thinking back with hindsight that damn career jump had come very quick, El found she was feeling somewhat nervous wondering how would she feel if her Rav had been somehow involved with all this covert cloak and dagger stuff from the onset? Elaen hoped she wouldn’t have to find out the depths of her emotional response to such a deception, but given the often cruel nature of life the universe and everything the Lt. Constable was already getting that uncomfortable sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and girding herself for the worst.
Garrin hooked his carbine back up again - well that was unexpected.
‘Just remember before you shoot anyone you shouldn’t G that murder on a station means - that very short walk - and just look at all these professional witnesses’, said Carl motioning towards the Strike Team with an evil smirk.
‘Thanks, I will remember that, say err… shouldn’t I be sworn in - deputised or something - if you are going to let me use this at all’, said Garrin.
‘No’, said Carl, ‘I don’t want you getting any ideas. That’s just for last ditch self defence when somebody is trying hard to kill you - your not some vigilante law man.’
‘Any other wonderful advice’, said Garrin.
‘If any shooting starts find something thick to hide behind’, said Ravn laughing.
Yeah, thought G to himself, I’ll just jump in behind you big guy!
In the end being mob handed they had to take two separate lifts up to the office floor. The advanced party being all professional fighters a mix of Carls lads and Black Dogs. Luckily Anna’s office was still safe and secure and looked apart from a few knocked over items undamaged. Once the place was checked over the Dogs immediately began going through their supplies stowing even more items of essential(?) equipment. Arranging the rest for a GTD back to Garrin’s Grim Reaper.
Carl had his Tactical Team secure the corridor opposite the lifts then followed after Anna. After a brief moment of hesitation the RJL Administrator pulled out her box and set the lure doing so within the full view of her guest. It was a gut decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret later if there was a later.
‘This shouldn’t take too long’, said Anna praying that she was right. While the professor waited on the messenger drone to arrive she began tearing around herself stowing bits and pieces of gear into a suspensor assisted backpack Fay had given her earlier. Was this it was she about to abandon AFC 4 and terminate the project? Was the forge doomed what would happen to RJL if its first base of operations went down before its inaugural flight? At least Em was alive Anna reminded herself, small mercies. Where they really going to have to fight there way off the station against Hales Marines that seemed just too unreal.
‘Is that it?’, asked Carl as a tiny device scuttled forward to plug itself in.
Anna didn’t reply she was too busy diving over to fish through the massive download for anything of immediate significance, but it was almost impossible to judge. There was a monstrous amount of data more even than usual and much of it horrific: explosions, fires, decompressed sections, broken power lines, crashed transit modules, spilled crates, bodies, walking wounded, trapped Argons various groups of well armed Marines and thousands of other images the significance of which were utterly lost on Anna. The hive seething with activity the queen looking… odd larger more bloated almost as if she was pregnant with - something different - something bigger. Anna didn’t like the look of that!
‘What’s up’ said Carl seeing the look of worry on his partners face.
‘I don’t know’, said Anna.
‘What is that thing’, it looked like metal but alive - its wasn’t like any drone or bot Carl had ever seen, ‘is that it?’ asked Carl shuddering the big beetle / spider like creature was giving him the creeps the way it pulsated and rippled beneath its shimmering skin.
‘That’s part of it’, said Anna with an incredulous look, ‘but something has changed it’s taken on a lot of mass and is much more animalistic and fluid. I don’t know what it’s doing this is something new. Damn I’ll have to make a closer inspection and take some readings maybe even a sample - then decide what to do!’
‘It looks like its been consuming that bloody strut’, said Carl, ’and you want to cuddle up to it are you crazy. I thought you said you could self destruct it. Is it meant to be eating the Station?’
‘Not like that tiny insignificant scrapings of material to make its drones. I need to know what its doing’, said Anna, ‘you have no idea what the thing - that thing - is attached to is capable of (hell I don’t know either) I hope Febr wasn’t right. Is it demonstrating belated self preservation. Maybe it knows the gig is up and is getting ready to leave the station fek you’re right its too risky I’m going to suicide it.’
Anna keyed in the crude command and the messenger drone scuttled off since she was done with it. Anna activated the remote camera drones she had deposited near the queens nest and watched and waited. Nothing the command should have fed back instantaneously via the core itself one simple basic concept - Total Discovery - and the hive and the queen should melt away to dust as if they never were (a need for secrecy seemed hardwired into them) yet nothing only the steady consumption and Anna could swear now new growth!
‘Its not working. Fay must be an oracle herself sending me those Black Dogs’, said Anna, ‘were going to have to try and blow it, to destroy it the hard way Carl. To put this simply that thing - whatever it is turning into - is linked up to the mother of all alien computers. It looked utterly passive a simple interface to endless storage capacity and a fragile interface at that but this. It might be benign but I don’t see how we can take the risk.’
‘Anna you can’t be serious’, said Carl pulling out his computer pad and punching up some visuals, ‘look at this stress diagram of the complex, and you want to set off more explosions.’
‘Its metal Carl shooting a few slugs at it I’m guessing is probably not going to work’, said Anna, ‘lets hope its not become like the generator - that has proved virtually indestructible!’
‘GTD it into space then blow it’, said Carl, ‘getting it off the station should limit its ability to gain further mass which has to be good for a start.’
‘That might also set it loose what if it is capable of flight’, said Anna.
‘Alright transport it into a container a crate or something’, said Carl.
‘A crate with some serious ordinance attached to it as soon as it arrives we blow it’, said Anna.
At this point Suewyn burst into the room, ‘Anna our corporate blocks have been hacked.’
‘Wait’, said Carl pulling out his pad and using his security codes to interrogate the corporate units functionality only for his pad to go dead as soon as it hooked in to the in built offices security architecture, ‘It looks like a virus’, he explained, ‘its taken out my pad.’
‘I fekkin hope that is Sven’s Marines’, said Anna nervously, ’but I’ve got a very bad feeling it isn’t.’
Carl fiddled behind his ear… nothing.
Seeing the gesture and look on Carls face Anna tried the same. She had finally reclaimed her earpiece from Ravn before they had entered the lift it also now seemed dead, a coincidence Anna didn’t think so!’
‘I guess that means all our communications are completely cut again’, said Sue giving Anna an odd look, ’we had better warn the others.’
‘Sure’, said Anna but when they went to leave they learned the door out to the main office had locked itself and refused to budge.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Tue, 6. Nov 07, 20:33, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 75 - A Little Earlier in the Cycle
A little earlier…
Sven watched the tail end of Fays Heavy Marines deploying as his own Transport Ship alighted and floated out the now still fully open main docking bay doors. Many things might be going wrong here but perhaps not just for himself. From here on in he would track Anna’s Trace and perhaps re-establish contact with his advanced party from the outside. Remaining on AFC 4 was to his mind becoming too risky a venture.
If only he dared transport the cursed Station Runner clean out. However, the Admiral was increasingly intrigued that Fay hadn’t attempted to do the same not to mention suspicious and paranoid as well. Was Anna being deliberately left as some kind of enticement it made him nervous. Scans with the right equipment can be fooled and Fay always arrived at any action with lots of fabulous new toys. This one would just have to be done the hard way up close, personal and with a lot of caution. Luckily he had several squads of dignitary guards and operatives still on the complex now activated and closing in.
The Admirals departure wasn’t missed by Fay in fact she had the temerity to scan his ship as he pulled out, it amused her.
‘There goes trouble’, said the LoD Commander in Chief to the busy Operations Room in general, ‘I think for once I’ll follow the Oracles lead. We’re leaving. Tell Vell to take us out I’ll run the rest of this operation from the Lost for Words’, well that at least put a smile back on the face of - these Damned, she thought.
Ice breaker looked up and behind by camera as he marched along the deck using magnetic grips, ‘There goes our Leader’, he said, ‘I guess now the boys are here, she can afford to leave us to it!’, he finished a little grumpily.
‘Cut the chatter and keep on top of our - Team Six - lets not get cocky and dead’, said Bar None.
‘Yes Sir’, said IB with a little over the top sarcastic enthusiasm as he monitored the deployment of his rear guard squad via tactical display on his HUD.
‘Sir who am I designating as hostiles on this one’, asked the rather windy new recruit now called Deep Rumble. The lad was obviously still a bit confused from the rather terse and limited briefing.
‘Anybody that is foolish enough to fek with us - I don’t know be creative - just look after your brothers and be wary of potentially unfriendly friendly fire’, said Ice.
‘I hate these green on green jobs’, said Some Hope.
‘Overlord how are the structural readings?’ queried Bar None.
‘About the same Sir - pretty scary - I hope this is going to be a short one’, replied Overlord.
A short time later the Lightning Spears decamped in one of AFC 4’s warehouses which they promptly welded shut and electronically blocked from surveillance. After that the heavy gear was shifted around and assembled with remarkable speed the engineering crew making the most of the zero gravity. The Deployment Nexus was a towering construction that looked like something a crazy scientist might throw together in a futuristic PVR. A mad cap adaptation of heavy duty scanning equipment and Goner Transport Device technology which when combined with inbuilt systems within the Spears specialised armoured suit’s gave them their unique field mobility. It was while the Spears were busy slotting the Nexus together that AFC 4’s latest crisis was revealed.
‘We’ve lost Station wide communications’, noted Overlord, ‘Damn its got my computer pad too. Well that’s an interesting development.’
Sparky however wasn‘t listening, ‘Fekkin hate this thing’, he complained to no one in particular as he carefully plugged in the horrendously illegal generator to the Deployment Nexus (after he was sure it was fully shielded from any possible external scan).
‘The price of independence’, said Politics, ‘given this stations current condition pretty providential - something to be happy about. Besides its supposed to be as safe as anything. According to the wizards this continued modern dependence on energy cells is now just-’
‘Politics’, chorused all the Spears nearby.
‘Exactly’, said Politics.
‘Everything alright with you Elaen?’ asked Ravn as he looked over some of the Dogs other items of equipment. Rav had just expertly pieced together a carbine for himself out of the Dogs spare parts - they had more than enough bits to build at least two extra weapons - Rav had to admire the sappers self sufficiency.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ asked El answering his question with a question.
‘It’s always good to do what you know best’, said Rav, ‘but I’m not itching for a fight if that is what is worrying you!’
‘I guess I’m not either’, said the Lt. Constable although she was really hinting about their relationship - not a potential skirmish with Sven’s Wraiths. Of course the comment went right over Ravn’s head, sometimes she wondered why she bothered.
‘Fek called out Suewyn from her desk somebody has just hacked right through our corporate blocks I’d better tell Anna’, she said running for the inner door.
‘There goes any element of surprise’, said Ravn dialling up the strength on his weapon to max, ‘sounds like a prelude to incoming. Cameras are all over this place, some are even mobile behind those two way mirror strips that run around the walls and the ceiling.’
‘Nothing is private on ArgonForge 4’, said Garrin well he hadn‘t heard the phrase in a few segments so he couldn't resist the utterance as he made various rude gestures around the room, ‘You know I sometimes wonder what the point of computer security is - everyone and their granny seems to be able to hack right through it.’
‘No security is watertight if you have a determined enough adversary especially one with access to the right software. Nonetheless security measures can at least warn you and delay the inevitable’, said Rav, ‘better than being taken fully unawares.’
‘Oh… I would advise against being taken unawares’, said G.
Ravn just gave him a sour look while fiddling repeatedly behind his ear, ‘Trying to check in on the lads in the corridor’, he noted, ‘El , G see if you can raise anybody my earpiece seems dead again.’
‘Likewise’, said Garrin after a little fumbling of his own.
‘Me too’, replied Elaen, ‘so what does that mean?’
‘That this day is either full of coincidences or our opponents are pretty good’, said Rav with a sigh pulling out his computer pad to see if he could get a query out to the ICCS. As soon as his pad was activated and made a wireless connection it was infected by some sort of invasive virus that cut through his military intelligence grade firewalls and anti virus software pretty much as efficiently as the laser line the dual handled pad disguised cleanly cut through flesh and bone!
Ravn’s computer pad hung solid ignoring all input, ‘Now that is pretty impressive!’ said the Chief showing off the frozen screen as he commenced to hear banging on first the offices inside and then outside doors, ‘now what?’
‘Looks like we’re locked in’, yelled Dell towards his Chief having reached the door to the corridor and having tried and failed to open it. Rav watched as Dell pulled out his computer pad to run a bypass only for it to go down with the same nasty infection inflicting his own, ‘fek that’s one sharp routine’, commented the Dog.
‘I’ll crank it’, said Cole who had moved along side to unlock the emergency panel unfolding then trying to work the manual winder in one smooth motion that ended in a jarred halt, ‘damn she won’t budge’, he complained straining.
‘I’ve got a really bad feeling about this one’, said Anna.
‘Its an electronic lockdown’, said Carl to Suewyn who was also currently trapped inside Anna’s bedroom, ‘the manual crank is useless we need to both disengage and at the same time permanently disable each part of the locking mechanism. Six dead bolts and the crank brake on these jobs - seven devices in all.’
‘That sounds way too slow’, said Sue, ‘I’m sure if we can get their attention somehow, the Dogs could blow it right off its rails a hell of a lot quicker! I mean time is a priority if we don’t want to get into a fight?’
Anna grabbed up a desk lamp, ‘Do our guys know basic code?’ she asked practicing long glancing blows followed by short sharp raps upon the table.
‘Bound to’, said Sue, ‘drum up a storm first to get their attention though then signal what?’
‘How about just repeating ‘blow dor rply y n’’, said Carl.
‘Sounds good’, said Anna surprisingly cheerful. Well there was something rather pleasing in finding a simple old fashioned solution to a modern complex problem.
‘Now what’, said Gregor fingering his ear piece.
‘It’s impossible not even a military grade virus should be able to do this’, said Iyn running from screen to screen, ‘everything is going down again the whole fekkin ICCS. I’ve never seen anything like this not via software infiltration. Fek its universal, even my pad look’, he lifted up the hanged inflicted item for everyone to see.
‘Options’, said the Administrator frowning.
Iyn stared at the ruin all around him blankly, ‘I don’t know… actually unplug the whole beast and rebooting her in safe mode’, he laughed clearly not being entirely serious, ‘I know - its utter madness - even if we could we would have to hit the fekker with every counter measure we could preload from hard store, but I don’t think even that would be enough! The way the system was corrupted, well if I hadn’t just seen it, I would have sworn it was impossible. I don’t think it is fixable not in any sensible timeframe - to be honest - not without the cooperation of whoever instigated this threat.’
‘This has to be a long term pre-planned inside job’, said the Navy Sergeant of Military Police looking around the gathered crew, ‘Your technical expert is right - you don’t just take out an ICCS like that (not even Argon Navy Intelligence could pull that off) not this quickly and completely.’
Who wondered Gregor had the required - high level - access codes to the AFC 4 ICCS other than: himself, Iyn, Carl and before her sudden departure Anna! Anna whose Mother had gone over to The Split according to an incoming alert from Admiral Hale (just before the loss of all communication). Anna who had tried to drive a wedge between him and that the Admiral by claiming she believed Gregor might be nothing but a pawn planting the seed that Hale might be going to have his supposed future Senatorial candidate assassinated: a diabolic plot designed to ensure a later dream ticket for his next client! Anna who had seemed nothing but disappointed with him following his return from Argon Prime. Anna who claimed to be his friend but bedded down with the troublesome and fractious Security Commander Carl? Anna who was about to be apprehended for questioning. Then there was Carl who had in the middle of a monumental crisis - abandoned his post to chase after his lover - it would add up to a pretty conspiracy but it almost seemed a little too neat and tidy.
‘Do we have any communications at all now, what about old faithful: the DLC-COMSYS?’ asked Gregor.
‘I’m sorry Sir’, said Matthews from the CSLD, ‘we’ve even lost the COMSYS and the Automated Crisis Management Routine I’m guessing that means the evacuation cascades are down with some bulkheads jammed open and others locked closed. However, I don’t know for sure I’ve lost all visuals, scan data, everything - anything could be happening on the station! Frankly I’m half surprised we still have gravity and life support. In fact with the entire ICCS and the subsidiary systems down I find the fact that the air is still circulating and the emergency lights still on here almost a little odd.’
Gregor was stunned this couldn’t be happening not on his watch, everything had been going so well.
‘Maybe it is only our monitors that are down’, said Gregor, ‘could somebody else have hijacked the ICCS?’
‘Now that would be a neat trick’, said Iyn.
‘Sir I don’t have any readings on the stress levels any more either’, said Dan very nervously, ‘and we have lost the ability to GTD. Sir as far as I can tell we’re a floating hulk.’
‘Sir we should initiate a manual evacuation’, said Ghia, ‘get out there crank or cut the doors whatever it takes to get the people off that’s our responsibility. The Navy can deal with these felons whoever they are. We need to get somebody out to that Carrier yourself Sir. You could demand assistance help to coordinate the Navy’s resources to our cause. I mean couldn’t they just deep scan us section by section (since our shields are down) and pluck evacuees off using their own Goner Transport Devices.’
‘That’s it’, said Gregor, ‘well done helmsman. Kramer if anyone can plan out the best route for such operations without active working blueprint and scans it is you. Find me a way off AFC 4 and I will get help from the Lost for Words or die trying. I’m putting you in charge of planning the manual evacuation (as the backup plan) as well, I can think of no more able Argon for that post. Will you agree to accept this charge.’
‘I’ll do everything I can Sir’, said Bushido gravely giving an odd little formal bow.
‘Ghia will you accept the Helm again? I know - it is a lot to ask - but we need somebody here just in case the monitors come back on and communications are re-established. What do you say?’ asked Gregor.
Damn thought Ghia looks like I picked a poor time to show some competency but she simply replied, ‘I’ll do my best Sir.’
‘I’m sure you will now Kramer this route to the Dark’, began Gregor.
‘Every things infected Sir it must have got in via the wireless connections despite the firewalls. Only the Independent Communications Array Field Unit seems ok so far I think because it isn’t hooked up to anything active. Well have to be very careful how we deploy it keep it isolated. Both the Scanner and my Computer Pad are down’, complained Riddle.
‘HarpsArgon?’ asked Siidan.
‘Same here Sir this level of aggressive intrusion is something new to my experience. We’ve hacked our last door this one will have to be taken out the hard way’, said HA looking the barrier over.
What by the Darkest nebula is going on here? thought Siidan crestfallen.
‘This could take a while’, said Riddle.
Maybe it was time to call for a GTD out - while they still could - or a bunny hop direct to the Tower although that would have its own risks they didn‘t have the Lightning Spears specialist Goner Transport gear, thought Siidan to himself. Fay had wanted to keep it simple and open (but that had been before the collision). If only the Dragon Empress hadn’t insisted on the importance of this one, besides after coming this far on their own steam. Being transported the last leg would feel like a mockery of all their hard won efforts and might even damage morale further even if it was easier. The Argon mind was a funny thing. At least foot still offered some element of surprise?
‘Come on lads get to it. Just this final hatch to bust through, then it should be a clean run up the Towers lift shaft’, said the Damned Squad Leader trying to lift his units now slightly dipping morale maybe they could make use of the camera blindness. Unfortunately while he waited on his men breaching the doors stubborn locking mechanisms Siidan had too long to consider his overall tactical position.
How quickly his subordinates mood had changed after the high caused by that very successful action against the Wraiths. Now it all felt like a bit of an anti climax and a farce especially since they now understood the stations shield was down and the late loss of any useful future station surveillance publicity. It was really beginning to annoy him that Fay could now just fly over the Tower do a highly detailed scan locate her quarry and Goner Transported the Professor and even the ‘Lost For Words’ Dogs right out to custody and or safety on the Carrier what then was the purpose of a party on foot? Or was there something his Commander hadn’t informed him of.
From where he stood at the moment this action just didn’t seem relevant anymore - this foolish show for the Admiral and ArgonForges benefit. Yet Fay hadn’t reconsidered her strategy despite the changing situation she had failed to intervene and so far decided not to break the earlier agreed operational com silence. If he was in charge he would have flown over and plucked this ridiculous ground squad out from this pointless operation.
It was looking suspiciously possible that both himself and his Commander in Chief might have fallen into one of the oldest traps. Each perhaps expecting the other to take the initiative resulting in both letting a foolish undertaking ride. Results were all that mattered had pride goaded him away from a more flexible solution. What should have been a walk in the park had escalated into a ridiculously complex and risky prolonged tactical endeavour. Siidan was increasingly convinced AFC 4 was going down (he had seen the stress levels before the viral infection) - it was just a question of when - he didn‘t want to fall with it. All for what - a lousy formal arrest for a now blind(?) audience. As matters stood he doubted even a security camera would catch this little piece of pomp.
Walking in might have made sense when they had started out on this mission but not anymore. It was his own fault, thought Siidan, Fay hadn’t ridden him after all. He had failed to step up and make the right decision, Siidan realised he could at any time have called in and / or called it off, not to mention simply demanded clarification. The Squad Leader felt sure he should have acted decisively and questioned his orders following the collision instead of just deciding to tough it out. From the ground he should have convinced Fay to use a more technological approach and hoped the military scramble would be security enough. Was it his pride that had driven them onward despite his misgivings not to mention the structural warnings the creaks, groans and shakes.
When the Legion was successful it was almost always because it deliberately flaunted the rules others were forced to abide by. The idea of possibly dying here because he had gotten old and bloody minded and been too stubborn to turn around - even though a part of him had known he should - was rather annoying. When had he become so damn reckless with his crew and his own life, Siidan wondered, if it was a side effect caused by living so long with the Argon Incentive.
The Damned Squad Leader also wondered, if the Incentive was Anna’s excuse for going back to her office rather than evacuating? What then was the Security Commanders motivation surely not love or had he shown some belated good sense and jumped out of that Transit Tube and off the Station by GTD? Somehow Siidan doubted it. That fool Argon was probably bound by other insane priorities - no doubt he felt duty bound to stay on AFC 4 until the last evacuee drifted out an airlock or some other similar nonsense - he knew the type. In another existence he had been almost like that once himself before his wife had been enslaved. How freely and erratically the pendulum did swing.
‘Come on damn it get that fekking door open you laggards’, cursed the ex pirate, ‘without the scanner we could lose them.’
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 75 - A Little Earlier in the Cycle
A little earlier…
Sven watched the tail end of Fays Heavy Marines deploying as his own Transport Ship alighted and floated out the now still fully open main docking bay doors. Many things might be going wrong here but perhaps not just for himself. From here on in he would track Anna’s Trace and perhaps re-establish contact with his advanced party from the outside. Remaining on AFC 4 was to his mind becoming too risky a venture.
If only he dared transport the cursed Station Runner clean out. However, the Admiral was increasingly intrigued that Fay hadn’t attempted to do the same not to mention suspicious and paranoid as well. Was Anna being deliberately left as some kind of enticement it made him nervous. Scans with the right equipment can be fooled and Fay always arrived at any action with lots of fabulous new toys. This one would just have to be done the hard way up close, personal and with a lot of caution. Luckily he had several squads of dignitary guards and operatives still on the complex now activated and closing in.
The Admirals departure wasn’t missed by Fay in fact she had the temerity to scan his ship as he pulled out, it amused her.
‘There goes trouble’, said the LoD Commander in Chief to the busy Operations Room in general, ‘I think for once I’ll follow the Oracles lead. We’re leaving. Tell Vell to take us out I’ll run the rest of this operation from the Lost for Words’, well that at least put a smile back on the face of - these Damned, she thought.
Ice breaker looked up and behind by camera as he marched along the deck using magnetic grips, ‘There goes our Leader’, he said, ‘I guess now the boys are here, she can afford to leave us to it!’, he finished a little grumpily.
‘Cut the chatter and keep on top of our - Team Six - lets not get cocky and dead’, said Bar None.
‘Yes Sir’, said IB with a little over the top sarcastic enthusiasm as he monitored the deployment of his rear guard squad via tactical display on his HUD.
‘Sir who am I designating as hostiles on this one’, asked the rather windy new recruit now called Deep Rumble. The lad was obviously still a bit confused from the rather terse and limited briefing.
‘Anybody that is foolish enough to fek with us - I don’t know be creative - just look after your brothers and be wary of potentially unfriendly friendly fire’, said Ice.
‘I hate these green on green jobs’, said Some Hope.
‘Overlord how are the structural readings?’ queried Bar None.
‘About the same Sir - pretty scary - I hope this is going to be a short one’, replied Overlord.
A short time later the Lightning Spears decamped in one of AFC 4’s warehouses which they promptly welded shut and electronically blocked from surveillance. After that the heavy gear was shifted around and assembled with remarkable speed the engineering crew making the most of the zero gravity. The Deployment Nexus was a towering construction that looked like something a crazy scientist might throw together in a futuristic PVR. A mad cap adaptation of heavy duty scanning equipment and Goner Transport Device technology which when combined with inbuilt systems within the Spears specialised armoured suit’s gave them their unique field mobility. It was while the Spears were busy slotting the Nexus together that AFC 4’s latest crisis was revealed.
‘We’ve lost Station wide communications’, noted Overlord, ‘Damn its got my computer pad too. Well that’s an interesting development.’
Sparky however wasn‘t listening, ‘Fekkin hate this thing’, he complained to no one in particular as he carefully plugged in the horrendously illegal generator to the Deployment Nexus (after he was sure it was fully shielded from any possible external scan).
‘The price of independence’, said Politics, ‘given this stations current condition pretty providential - something to be happy about. Besides its supposed to be as safe as anything. According to the wizards this continued modern dependence on energy cells is now just-’
‘Politics’, chorused all the Spears nearby.
‘Exactly’, said Politics.
‘Everything alright with you Elaen?’ asked Ravn as he looked over some of the Dogs other items of equipment. Rav had just expertly pieced together a carbine for himself out of the Dogs spare parts - they had more than enough bits to build at least two extra weapons - Rav had to admire the sappers self sufficiency.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ asked El answering his question with a question.
‘It’s always good to do what you know best’, said Rav, ‘but I’m not itching for a fight if that is what is worrying you!’
‘I guess I’m not either’, said the Lt. Constable although she was really hinting about their relationship - not a potential skirmish with Sven’s Wraiths. Of course the comment went right over Ravn’s head, sometimes she wondered why she bothered.
‘Fek called out Suewyn from her desk somebody has just hacked right through our corporate blocks I’d better tell Anna’, she said running for the inner door.
‘There goes any element of surprise’, said Ravn dialling up the strength on his weapon to max, ‘sounds like a prelude to incoming. Cameras are all over this place, some are even mobile behind those two way mirror strips that run around the walls and the ceiling.’
‘Nothing is private on ArgonForge 4’, said Garrin well he hadn‘t heard the phrase in a few segments so he couldn't resist the utterance as he made various rude gestures around the room, ‘You know I sometimes wonder what the point of computer security is - everyone and their granny seems to be able to hack right through it.’
‘No security is watertight if you have a determined enough adversary especially one with access to the right software. Nonetheless security measures can at least warn you and delay the inevitable’, said Rav, ‘better than being taken fully unawares.’
‘Oh… I would advise against being taken unawares’, said G.
Ravn just gave him a sour look while fiddling repeatedly behind his ear, ‘Trying to check in on the lads in the corridor’, he noted, ‘El , G see if you can raise anybody my earpiece seems dead again.’
‘Likewise’, said Garrin after a little fumbling of his own.
‘Me too’, replied Elaen, ‘so what does that mean?’
‘That this day is either full of coincidences or our opponents are pretty good’, said Rav with a sigh pulling out his computer pad to see if he could get a query out to the ICCS. As soon as his pad was activated and made a wireless connection it was infected by some sort of invasive virus that cut through his military intelligence grade firewalls and anti virus software pretty much as efficiently as the laser line the dual handled pad disguised cleanly cut through flesh and bone!
Ravn’s computer pad hung solid ignoring all input, ‘Now that is pretty impressive!’ said the Chief showing off the frozen screen as he commenced to hear banging on first the offices inside and then outside doors, ‘now what?’
‘Looks like we’re locked in’, yelled Dell towards his Chief having reached the door to the corridor and having tried and failed to open it. Rav watched as Dell pulled out his computer pad to run a bypass only for it to go down with the same nasty infection inflicting his own, ‘fek that’s one sharp routine’, commented the Dog.
‘I’ll crank it’, said Cole who had moved along side to unlock the emergency panel unfolding then trying to work the manual winder in one smooth motion that ended in a jarred halt, ‘damn she won’t budge’, he complained straining.
‘I’ve got a really bad feeling about this one’, said Anna.
‘Its an electronic lockdown’, said Carl to Suewyn who was also currently trapped inside Anna’s bedroom, ‘the manual crank is useless we need to both disengage and at the same time permanently disable each part of the locking mechanism. Six dead bolts and the crank brake on these jobs - seven devices in all.’
‘That sounds way too slow’, said Sue, ‘I’m sure if we can get their attention somehow, the Dogs could blow it right off its rails a hell of a lot quicker! I mean time is a priority if we don’t want to get into a fight?’
Anna grabbed up a desk lamp, ‘Do our guys know basic code?’ she asked practicing long glancing blows followed by short sharp raps upon the table.
‘Bound to’, said Sue, ‘drum up a storm first to get their attention though then signal what?’
‘How about just repeating ‘blow dor rply y n’’, said Carl.
‘Sounds good’, said Anna surprisingly cheerful. Well there was something rather pleasing in finding a simple old fashioned solution to a modern complex problem.
‘Now what’, said Gregor fingering his ear piece.
‘It’s impossible not even a military grade virus should be able to do this’, said Iyn running from screen to screen, ‘everything is going down again the whole fekkin ICCS. I’ve never seen anything like this not via software infiltration. Fek its universal, even my pad look’, he lifted up the hanged inflicted item for everyone to see.
‘Options’, said the Administrator frowning.
Iyn stared at the ruin all around him blankly, ‘I don’t know… actually unplug the whole beast and rebooting her in safe mode’, he laughed clearly not being entirely serious, ‘I know - its utter madness - even if we could we would have to hit the fekker with every counter measure we could preload from hard store, but I don’t think even that would be enough! The way the system was corrupted, well if I hadn’t just seen it, I would have sworn it was impossible. I don’t think it is fixable not in any sensible timeframe - to be honest - not without the cooperation of whoever instigated this threat.’
‘This has to be a long term pre-planned inside job’, said the Navy Sergeant of Military Police looking around the gathered crew, ‘Your technical expert is right - you don’t just take out an ICCS like that (not even Argon Navy Intelligence could pull that off) not this quickly and completely.’
Who wondered Gregor had the required - high level - access codes to the AFC 4 ICCS other than: himself, Iyn, Carl and before her sudden departure Anna! Anna whose Mother had gone over to The Split according to an incoming alert from Admiral Hale (just before the loss of all communication). Anna who had tried to drive a wedge between him and that the Admiral by claiming she believed Gregor might be nothing but a pawn planting the seed that Hale might be going to have his supposed future Senatorial candidate assassinated: a diabolic plot designed to ensure a later dream ticket for his next client! Anna who had seemed nothing but disappointed with him following his return from Argon Prime. Anna who claimed to be his friend but bedded down with the troublesome and fractious Security Commander Carl? Anna who was about to be apprehended for questioning. Then there was Carl who had in the middle of a monumental crisis - abandoned his post to chase after his lover - it would add up to a pretty conspiracy but it almost seemed a little too neat and tidy.
‘Do we have any communications at all now, what about old faithful: the DLC-COMSYS?’ asked Gregor.
‘I’m sorry Sir’, said Matthews from the CSLD, ‘we’ve even lost the COMSYS and the Automated Crisis Management Routine I’m guessing that means the evacuation cascades are down with some bulkheads jammed open and others locked closed. However, I don’t know for sure I’ve lost all visuals, scan data, everything - anything could be happening on the station! Frankly I’m half surprised we still have gravity and life support. In fact with the entire ICCS and the subsidiary systems down I find the fact that the air is still circulating and the emergency lights still on here almost a little odd.’
Gregor was stunned this couldn’t be happening not on his watch, everything had been going so well.
‘Maybe it is only our monitors that are down’, said Gregor, ‘could somebody else have hijacked the ICCS?’
‘Now that would be a neat trick’, said Iyn.
‘Sir I don’t have any readings on the stress levels any more either’, said Dan very nervously, ‘and we have lost the ability to GTD. Sir as far as I can tell we’re a floating hulk.’
‘Sir we should initiate a manual evacuation’, said Ghia, ‘get out there crank or cut the doors whatever it takes to get the people off that’s our responsibility. The Navy can deal with these felons whoever they are. We need to get somebody out to that Carrier yourself Sir. You could demand assistance help to coordinate the Navy’s resources to our cause. I mean couldn’t they just deep scan us section by section (since our shields are down) and pluck evacuees off using their own Goner Transport Devices.’
‘That’s it’, said Gregor, ‘well done helmsman. Kramer if anyone can plan out the best route for such operations without active working blueprint and scans it is you. Find me a way off AFC 4 and I will get help from the Lost for Words or die trying. I’m putting you in charge of planning the manual evacuation (as the backup plan) as well, I can think of no more able Argon for that post. Will you agree to accept this charge.’
‘I’ll do everything I can Sir’, said Bushido gravely giving an odd little formal bow.
‘Ghia will you accept the Helm again? I know - it is a lot to ask - but we need somebody here just in case the monitors come back on and communications are re-established. What do you say?’ asked Gregor.
Damn thought Ghia looks like I picked a poor time to show some competency but she simply replied, ‘I’ll do my best Sir.’
‘I’m sure you will now Kramer this route to the Dark’, began Gregor.
‘Every things infected Sir it must have got in via the wireless connections despite the firewalls. Only the Independent Communications Array Field Unit seems ok so far I think because it isn’t hooked up to anything active. Well have to be very careful how we deploy it keep it isolated. Both the Scanner and my Computer Pad are down’, complained Riddle.
‘HarpsArgon?’ asked Siidan.
‘Same here Sir this level of aggressive intrusion is something new to my experience. We’ve hacked our last door this one will have to be taken out the hard way’, said HA looking the barrier over.
What by the Darkest nebula is going on here? thought Siidan crestfallen.
‘This could take a while’, said Riddle.
Maybe it was time to call for a GTD out - while they still could - or a bunny hop direct to the Tower although that would have its own risks they didn‘t have the Lightning Spears specialist Goner Transport gear, thought Siidan to himself. Fay had wanted to keep it simple and open (but that had been before the collision). If only the Dragon Empress hadn’t insisted on the importance of this one, besides after coming this far on their own steam. Being transported the last leg would feel like a mockery of all their hard won efforts and might even damage morale further even if it was easier. The Argon mind was a funny thing. At least foot still offered some element of surprise?
‘Come on lads get to it. Just this final hatch to bust through, then it should be a clean run up the Towers lift shaft’, said the Damned Squad Leader trying to lift his units now slightly dipping morale maybe they could make use of the camera blindness. Unfortunately while he waited on his men breaching the doors stubborn locking mechanisms Siidan had too long to consider his overall tactical position.
How quickly his subordinates mood had changed after the high caused by that very successful action against the Wraiths. Now it all felt like a bit of an anti climax and a farce especially since they now understood the stations shield was down and the late loss of any useful future station surveillance publicity. It was really beginning to annoy him that Fay could now just fly over the Tower do a highly detailed scan locate her quarry and Goner Transported the Professor and even the ‘Lost For Words’ Dogs right out to custody and or safety on the Carrier what then was the purpose of a party on foot? Or was there something his Commander hadn’t informed him of.
From where he stood at the moment this action just didn’t seem relevant anymore - this foolish show for the Admiral and ArgonForges benefit. Yet Fay hadn’t reconsidered her strategy despite the changing situation she had failed to intervene and so far decided not to break the earlier agreed operational com silence. If he was in charge he would have flown over and plucked this ridiculous ground squad out from this pointless operation.
It was looking suspiciously possible that both himself and his Commander in Chief might have fallen into one of the oldest traps. Each perhaps expecting the other to take the initiative resulting in both letting a foolish undertaking ride. Results were all that mattered had pride goaded him away from a more flexible solution. What should have been a walk in the park had escalated into a ridiculously complex and risky prolonged tactical endeavour. Siidan was increasingly convinced AFC 4 was going down (he had seen the stress levels before the viral infection) - it was just a question of when - he didn‘t want to fall with it. All for what - a lousy formal arrest for a now blind(?) audience. As matters stood he doubted even a security camera would catch this little piece of pomp.
Walking in might have made sense when they had started out on this mission but not anymore. It was his own fault, thought Siidan, Fay hadn’t ridden him after all. He had failed to step up and make the right decision, Siidan realised he could at any time have called in and / or called it off, not to mention simply demanded clarification. The Squad Leader felt sure he should have acted decisively and questioned his orders following the collision instead of just deciding to tough it out. From the ground he should have convinced Fay to use a more technological approach and hoped the military scramble would be security enough. Was it his pride that had driven them onward despite his misgivings not to mention the structural warnings the creaks, groans and shakes.
When the Legion was successful it was almost always because it deliberately flaunted the rules others were forced to abide by. The idea of possibly dying here because he had gotten old and bloody minded and been too stubborn to turn around - even though a part of him had known he should - was rather annoying. When had he become so damn reckless with his crew and his own life, Siidan wondered, if it was a side effect caused by living so long with the Argon Incentive.
The Damned Squad Leader also wondered, if the Incentive was Anna’s excuse for going back to her office rather than evacuating? What then was the Security Commanders motivation surely not love or had he shown some belated good sense and jumped out of that Transit Tube and off the Station by GTD? Somehow Siidan doubted it. That fool Argon was probably bound by other insane priorities - no doubt he felt duty bound to stay on AFC 4 until the last evacuee drifted out an airlock or some other similar nonsense - he knew the type. In another existence he had been almost like that once himself before his wife had been enslaved. How freely and erratically the pendulum did swing.
‘Come on damn it get that fekking door open you laggards’, cursed the ex pirate, ‘without the scanner we could lose them.’
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Thu, 8. Nov 07, 17:55, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 76 - Jump Troops
The Storm Wraith Marine Transport Ship skimmed slowly but skilfully around and between various items: floating wreckage, other military vehicles, and the occasional vacuum suited individual as it hugged and strafed along the damaged ArgonForge Complex Four. The pilot at the controls was feeling deeply paranoid, and half expected to come under assault from the Lost for Words Carrier - even though an open attack by Fay would be madness. Within the modified military Argon Express TP class ship its principle passenger was the Admiral Sven Hale known as the Oracle to many, the Open Eye to a few. Having lately departed the Weapons Forge Hale settled down and assumed the role of Master of Marines. All around Sven a series of massed tactical screens sprung into life under his ministrations supplying him with vital scan and other intelligence data. It felt good to be back at the beating heart of an action - even in a cramped TP mobile operations room.
The main subject of his enquiry remained Anna Dei (her probable position marked out via the Trace he had covertly detected on her person at the Reaper Ball). Otherwise his own scattered forces locations were clearly marked by each individuals (now remote activated) electronic identity tag. Whatever was going on within the factory itself, Sven noted, Anna’s Trace was conveniently camping out in the Station Runners private office / living space. A little earlier Hale had lost Tag contact (his only link) with the group he now considered his advanced party. These Argons had been sent out on what was supposed to be a soft operation: simply to bring in the RJL Administrator for questioning - serving a legitimate warrant. However, this was prior to the station coming under direct attack and its internal bulkhead doors coming down making simple on board transit anything but easy. The Admiral was also concerned by the decampment of extra forces from the very obtrusive Carrier.
Sven despite such unexpected setbacks had still been reasonably confident - at least at first - that the team he had assigned the initial task were: still well placed, more than ably equipped, capable, and retained certain other hidden advantages. The Admiral had preferred to err on the side of caution for example: the squad while officially designated as Storm Wraiths were in fact mercenaries in Marine garb headed by a very skilled assassin known as The Mastery - as such they were far from a regular group. Hale fully expected these troops to prove a lot more able and unrestricted in their approach if and when required. Aided by a communication blackout once let off the leash Sven had been sure for a host of reasons that The Mastery would do whatever needed to be done.
Unfortunately the situation on the forge was anything but stable or straight forward being a believer that flexibility was the key to success Hale had decamped by GTD to this ship and departed through the open bay door (an exit obligingly forced by Fays Marines for there own reinforcements). With The Mastery’s squad now MIA either KIA or somehow shielded from signal transmission and bogged down Hale had decided to make use of his own greater mobility. Despite all the ongoing confusion the Admiral still retained a clear perfect fix on his probable target, and with the complexes shields down this was just too good an opportunity to miss. The great pity was the fact that Hale needed a proper visual confirmation of the targets identity and dared not just GTD Anna out to his custody - although this outcome was becoming increasing desirable - (Sven feared the trace might have been passed on to somebody else). Therefore the Admiral had to get forces in. The bad news seemed to be the fact that by scan Anna (if the Trace was Anna) was anything but alone.
Taking control via a command interface Hale began scooping out his diffuse on station forces by GTD to create a suitable strike team - much to their surprise and short term consternation. Most of these Marines were split up in small parties ostensibly securing a mixed bag of AFC 4 guests and dignitaries and Sven wasn’t going to waste time on comm’s with explanations nor give away the game by broadcasting his general intent.
Quickly as the Admiral sifted and lifted by GTD he also recorded the coalescing units future orders for a last segment data burst upon their arrival back at his AFC 4 planned rally point. Hale then matched up the icons and deposited them directly by GTD into the Harbour Tower East one level up from that vital Trace, such actions lifting then depositing elsewhere (although normally done with a longer planned run in and thus somewhat better organisation) were known in the Marine boarding trade as Bunny Hops, and had up until very recent times been considered one of the most advanced state of the art fluid tactical insertion manoeuvres. As such Sven was initially quite pleased with himself.
Hale doubted the Professor would come quietly at this stage so his Wraiths were in for some level of confrontation. Luckily Sven was also able to drop in some useful heavy equipment stored on this transport for just such occasions. It was a rag tag assembly, but it would still make a sizable and capable force.
Back on AFC 4 in a fully locked down and isolated warehouse Fays Lightning Spears where settling in and almost ready for action. Gathered around the hastily erected impressive construction that was the Deployment Nexus (a military Teladi invention made from the fusing of various existing technologies including multiple GTDs Triplex scanners and mainline computers into a marvellously functional new whole).
‘We have Red Sparks hitting Harbour Tower East’, yelled out Sparky excitedly. His bum having hardly hit the metal seat attached to the bulky apparatus, while the towering device had barely gone fully operational - in fact his assistants were still hooking themselves in.
‘How many’, asked Overlord as he zeroed in his own wide tactical screens.
‘Ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen, seventeen’, counted up Sparky, ‘plus inert materials.’
‘Ok I have them (one level above the prime) designating as hostile’, said Overlord, ‘they look disorganised to me.’
‘Insert squad alpha here, beta here, gamma here and delta here’, snapped Bar None pointing out positions with a laser marker upon a zooming in three dimensional map, ‘employ the close in tactical filter.’
‘Alerting designating and transporting Sir’, said Sparky arranging and matching the requisite icons with the speedy graceful fluidity of somebody who spent cycles lost in simulated action.
‘What about the Prime Sir’, asked Overlord.
‘Keep her on hold’, said Bar None, ‘but let it ride.’
The disparate disorganised mixed group of Wraiths that had just been deposited by Sven were still integrating their orders, cracking open equipment pods and roughly ascertaining / coming to terms with their new chain of command when the Lightning Spears streamed in with the unprecedented precision of the Deployment Nexus (utilising the systems perhaps unique ability to have a floating active rather than hard fixed GTD delivery).
Hale could hardly believe his eyes as he watched new figures appear on the active scan right on top of his own boarding party at point blank range.
An embarrassingly short time later (without firing a single shot) stripped and retagged for transit Sven’s haphazard assault team troops arrived at the Lost for Words brig and most of them where pretty much - lost for words - while on his own ship Hale - cursing a blue stream - was anything but!
Upon trying but failing to GTD his men out again from the sprung trap, the Admiral had raged at encountering a (after that skilled insertion) not unexpected umbrella of disruptive interference. The sudden interference preventing him from getting a rescue Goner Transport fix on his surrounded Marines. The Admiral knew the cause of this oddity only too well (being familiar with the full capabilities of a Deployment Nexus) in fact he had an expensive unit on order from the Teladi Military himself for his Storm Wraiths. The DN GTD system was without doubt the future for all mobile infantry fast and fluid Troop deployments and extractions. Trust Fay to be among the first to use the new Jump Troop technology the woman had the acquisition skills of a fekking reptilian Teladi herself - in his opinion the wrinkled crone even resembled one.
On AFC 4 below the site of Sven’s and the Lightning Spears various GTD Deliveries the Black Dogs had just demonstrated their expertise by explosively cracking the doors imprisoning and separating their friends and associates within the rooms of the office itself. In fact small streams of smoke were still settling when the Lightning Spears winked out on the level above from their first deployment to crash the party below with another fast insertion light show. The Spears arrival causing a tense Nano-segment until the Black Dogs recognised the big black suits with their white jagged spear devices and instead of opening fire embraced their compatriots from the home Carrier with smiles and clasps.
A little later Siidan and his squad after having broken through the last hatch and slowly magnetically scaling the long lift shaft finally forced the elevator door open on the level of Anna‘s office. To Siidan surprise only to be assisted in by the outreaching arms of awaiting armoured giants. A sharp burst of communications later and Siidan’s own mission was fully aborted. Anna was already in the custody of safe hands, and the lads and himself where carried away by GTD directly back to the Lost for Words for their own debrief. The LoD Squad Leader had to admit to himself that he felt both relieved and cheated by this turn of events: despite the use of the Spears making perfect sense to him and the fact that he wasn’t really sorry to be leaving the still unstable AFC 4.
After Fay was informed via various coded buzz words of the enfolding crisis with Anna’s Queen the Professor being the expert on the ground along with Ravn (as her close support protection) were quickly kitted out in spare Nexus Jump Suits. The extra units of the conspicuous gear being transported in to facilitate a coordinated team transit. Anna had used powered vacuum suits before but being plugged into the pretty much new State of the Art big black combat monstrosities was still something of a thrill. Once shown the basics they were streamed off with a bunch of minders to the last known site of Anna’s Queen. The arrival site had already been deep scanned for hostiles coming up blank. However, nobody really knew what to expect as the Queen had always been by nature a stealthy unit. The arrival rally point was far within the very outer superstructure of the station itself towards the back end of the central hub and technically lay between the space stations walls.
Arriving Anna found she wasn’t missing the absent lurid red glow from the emergency lighting despite the darkness. The suits advanced systems were more than a match for the patchy black creating a composite computer generated image of unsurpassed clarity. What the Professor did immediately noticed - much to her surprise - was that she had arrived not upright but positioned flat on her belly almost jammed into a confined space with a fallen strut lying overhead with little in the way of clearance - this was a new one to her the suit had actually shifted her into the necessary required shape in transit to fit within this irregular space. Ahead other midnight black shadows crabbed around (more Jump Troopers) obscuring her view as a closer figure tapped her on the metal shoulder despite Anna feeling an involuntary shudder - reassuringly it was just her Ravn - watching over his employers welfare as usual. Anna smiled inside her helmet she had decided to forgive his earlier tactical presumption over her earpiece - life was too short.
Beckoned forward by hand gestures the Professor and her bodyguard crawled up until they could rise unto their power assisted hands and knees. A gap clearing before them. Weak starlight was streaming in from a ragged hull breach to reveal in part…a curious husk. What looked like paper thin desiccated remains - the shape although a lot of it was missing in fact terminating in a fragile looking oval shaped outward thrusting edge was unmistakable - at least to Anna - as she had witnessed its livid pulsating image not very long ago. Had the Queen committed suicide after all? Carefully unhooking and opening a flask Anna took a sample: as she fully expected where she made contact the material fell away into a slightly sticky web like dust. What bothered her though was the fact that nearly all the mass of the enlarged creature had vanished - could it have simply drifted away or more likely was she looking at a discarded skin like an arachnids moult? If so where was whatever had emerged from this outer casing?
After lots of wide but fruitless scans as well as a series of very much more detailed local readings not to mention convincing the Troops to try to have the rest of the remains Goner Transported out in one piece (well the procedure was worth a try). Anna and Ravn where whisked out themselves from any potential future danger to the safety of the now overrun with evacuated civilians Carrier. It looked like the Hive access Core test was - for good or ill - at last perhaps finally over.
Gregor was slowly carefully working his way up an external access ladder - feeling quite heroic in the zero gravity - and almost fully outside AFC 4 when to his own unexpected disappointment communications came on again and he was hailed by Ghia. So much for his direct action to get assistance.
‘Administrator you won’t believe this but everything is back on line again, Sir. The inter and intra-link, the ICCS the COMSYS internal scanners the evacuation cascades the entire CAO control suite! It just unfroze and started working again’ explained the acting Helmsman.
Cursed typical, thought Gregor, ‘Fine, good work. Can you patch me through to the Lost for Words I’m just about to hit fully open space once I get out of this enclosed chute.’
‘Certainly Sir one moment’, said Ghia.
Sometime later…
Fay looked back at the exploded remains of the stricken Complex. It was a shock when she checked the time and realised just how little the wider universe had moved on since the collision. Typical to tactical actions the moments had seemed to elongate measured in all the individual heartbeats that separated the thin barrier between being alive and being forever (in most peoples cases at least) dead!
It would seem AFC 4 had survived after all even if it looked in worse condition than ever. AF were proving no slouches. As soon as the station was empty of personnel. ‘The Great Maker’ a Large Transport capable of carrying whole stations in kit form jumped in and commenced to disgorge vast tonnages of mass including an army of swarming repair and construction drones that had commenced to dissect and possibly repair various parts of the complex. Officially the complex was to get a major upgrade rather than be just repaired or fully replaced.
However, the Commander in Chief wondered was this exercise in renewal just corporate smoke and mirrors. The ArgonForge Complex Four had become more than a simple manufacturing asset it was now a symbol of Argon fidelity - so demolition was perhaps not seen as politically astute. Fay nonetheless wondered, how much of the exploded three dimensional puzzle being towed around by tractor beams and robotic units in this storm of activity - when the brute was reconstructed - would really be original AFC 4 and how much would be new station material still being unloaded into space - then again, thought Fay, maybe I just have a suspicious mind.
Such industry was an impressive sight but Fay knew she couldn’t daydream out the portal all cycle or watch the external camera views no matter how fascinating. As ever it was back to business. Moving to her desk the tired Commander in Chief flicked through some internal views instead and groaned the Lost for Words was crowded with bloody civilians much to her extreme annoyance! Gregor had harangued her into a very active evacuation of the final denizens from the then still dangerously unstable complex. Secretly Fay had deployed the on site Deployment Nexus and stripped the populace out section by section with remarkable efficiency.
Every station, Fay mused, should have a DN GTD for emergency evacuations, but the military would never permit it - not yet anyway - because of the potential security abuses. Apparently even the Teladi had some limits as to what they would sell and to whom. Pressured by the other races the Reptilians had agreed only to supply their amalgamated system to other legitimate governments for use by proper military forces. Probably this concession was only made because it required the use of sealed units that could only be supplied by other parties including such unlikely factions as the Goners and the Paranid. Creative use of even the basic GTD and JD technologies was already a major security headache for the Federal Argon Police and the Navy. Given the difficulties caused by these (now deemed) mundane advances it was maybe for the best that the radical innovation of the Hive access Core was now likely to be buried forever! While such items as the DN GTD was to stay for as long as possible in strictly military application. Still Fay suspected sooner or later some dodgy Teladi would smuggle a DN GTD to their pirate buddies in secret.
In fact on the surface - at least politically - ignoring some obvious loose ends that could be patch welded over everything had turned out remarkably neat and tidy for Fay. Maybe the universe was watched over by some benevolent entity after all. The remarkable discovery of a true sentience behind or simply part of Anna’s Queen created a plethora of questions. However, it provided one clear answer - the Hive access Core technology was inherently unsafe - just as Febr had suggested. If it was a technology in the traditional sense at all and not a truly living thing. Scans seemed to suggest the remains of AFC 4 were clean from contamination however the Hive and the Queen were always pretty resistant to discovery. Fay also couldn’t help but wonder would those AF bots encounter, but fail to notice, any evidence of the aliens presence or passage.
Anna was now convinced the device having been in operation longer than any other study had simply matured into a truer form - perhaps this process being accelerated by a perceived threat to the complex where it had nested. It was interesting that the Queen had gone very quickly from being passive and covertly self destructive to actively defensive and self preserving. Fay wondered if Anna’s Queen had simply been corrupted by the Professors own interactions with its systems, but Anna insisted on the theory of maturation to a natural point where it either became self aware or a vehicle for an external intellect from the other side (that strange dimension that febr and Anna believed the core existed in). Either maturation theory was a smarter hypothesis to put out. Fay was backing the self aware theory herself - as it gave out all the right warning signs - given the Argons experience with the Xenon.
Fay had kindly briefed Admiral Hale in full when she returned his men - stating their capture was just a question of mistaken identity due to poor communications. Of course the Commander in Chief also claimed her Lightning Spears had been forced to destroy the alien device they had been testing on the forge. Under Fays remit the team had gone in to clean up as soon as the tech commenced to demonstrate a dangerous degree of sentient independence. According to The Commander in Chief their had of course been no real risk. If Hale ever found out the cursed thing had in all probability escaped crammed full of intelligence on the Argon… well that didn’t bare thinking about. Happily though with the Hive access Core likely to be turned into a proscribed technology Anna should no longer be of any great perceived use to the Oracle and Sven Hale would be off Fays back until the next incident of contention between them!
Fay still had the original generator but no longer felt any desire to use it herself and was now sure she could convince Danna to drop it too. So apart from the creatures escape - if it had escaped - (which would be covered up) the test was to the ignorant: despite the technology proving too dangerous, a profound success and need not be an embarrassment. Fay was sure in retrospect many positive lessons could be learned from dissecting this entire fiasco. Certainly the new Jump Troops had more than proved themselves along with the Deployment Nexus. That was a safe breakthrough she would gladly cling to.
Hale as an immediate threat was relatively diffused. The squad Siidan had butchered was a bit of an embarrassment but nothing could be easily proved and Sven she was sure would have his own reasons not to dig too deeply as he had a habit of using dodgy irregular forces for these sorts of operations. The missing unit would just be a mystery - a future ghost story for the birth of the new improved AFC 4. Perhaps, Fay thought, she would spread the rumour that it was a payment enacted for mocking the Reaper with that Ball. It would make a great little soldiers tale - foolish legends had their uses.
The Dei’s remained a problem. Both Anna and her Father would have to be investigated because of Sven’s plot and it was doubtful given this stain of connection to The Split that they would ever be - officially - allowed near another classified project. Emma would have to be either assassinated or rescued, murder would be easier but Fay supposed she owed Anna at least an attempt at extraction. The Commander in Chief was feeling a bit cold and fell but knew she might well feel full of sympathy for her forced recruit later. Something about Anna just rubbed her up the wrong way was it because the Professor and Febr had once been lovers?
Febr was still completely out of it - the brain boost now seemed entirely unnecessary - then again with an alien creature possibly loose if he did recover his mind maybe the enhancement might prove invaluable later? Rud Chakr had been killed trying to escape after being brought onboard the Lost for Words. At least that was Fays story to Sven and she was sticking with it. Fay would find the ex traitor some position in the Legion of the Damned. AF, Sven and Gregor had made more than enough capitol out of the young fool! The LoD Commander in Chief knew Sven didn’t believe a word of this particular tale but if anything that fact only pleased her all the more.
Ravn bothered her he was still firmly attached to Anna. The seconded soldier knew far too much - even possibly that something strange had survived sloughing its skin on ArgonForge Four. Fay was tempted to have that Argon taken out without mercy but she was beginning to suspect that he might be working for somebody else and would love to know just who before instigating any action she couldn‘t retract! Perhaps Ravn was reporting to one of the more astute Senators, Generals or BD? At least Fay was now reasonably content that Anna’s pet Killer wasn’t one of Hales Assassins. Nonetheless, when it came to Rav, Fay decided, she would continue to watch developments closely.
Anna found herself staring at the now carefully preserved skin in the Lost for Words medical bay. Surprisingly it had survived the Goner Transport intact. Whatever the Queen truly was and wherever it had come from it could easily have killed them all. Clearly the entity had at the last easily gained full access to the forges ICCS and could simply have turned off life support or even activated the complexes self destruct. Instead it had instigated a lockdown until it was able to flee. The Professor wondered did the Queen this creature or artefact have comparable emotions to Argons. What would it make of the Professor that had raised it from the moment it was spun out from the generator - trying to destroy it - with that expected suicide command. Might something else have happened if she hadn’t told the inherently covert Queen that she was now revealed?
It was worrisome that like everyone else when the chips were down (before she was willing to risk the unknown) Anna had resorted to an act of desperation and potential destruction. The Professors willingness to kill something that was pretty much unique - in this universe at least belatedly appalled her. So much for the trained reasoning of an inquisitive Argon mind - had Febr’s warnings corrupted her? Now perhaps they would never know the true intent / purpose of the creature / artefact. In truth Febr and herself and all the others might have been warping its purpose from the onset with their own petty desires and fumbling efforts to use it. Anna turned away, she hoped it was over she hoped something beautiful had broken free from that skin and left all the ugliness and confusion of its origins behind. The Professor also hoped the Argon species had gotten away with their dangerously unrestrained curiosity - once again - without horrendous consequences but only time would tell!
Ravn was waiting for her in the corridor along with her official minders. Technically she was actually under arrest and was being kept segregated from the main refugees in restricted parts of the ship. Out of loyalty or a desire to preserve RJL for his own reasons Rav was sticking to his Administrator like glue. The fighter had even out of the black vowed to help her get her mother back, Anna found that action had cut through her cynicism and brought unexpected tears to her eyes.
Well this was much better than the AFC 4 brig, thought Alanis lounging on a fold down bunk even if she was currently restricted to these somewhat cramped quarters. It would seem she had piqued the interest of the big cheese on this ship. The crone clearly wanted something from her, well that suited the PVR Star fine she would be more worried if this Commander Fay didn’t. Sha had rarely ever been so happy to be Goner Transported - all that shaking really had been bringing back some bad memories. No matter it was all over and done with now. Picking up a remote Sha hooked into the inter-link and commenced to catch up with all the Universes gossip.
Carl found being back on a Carrier really strange. It brought back lots of good and bad recollections. Despite the externals of the new generation of Argon vessels appearing very different to the earlier models the internal spaces looked, sounded and even smelt very much the same. Apart from all these milling civilians of course - including he realised slightly to his horror himself.
The Commander wasn’t sure how he felt about things now. Was it time for him to leave AFC 4 for just a holiday or for good? Carl couldn’t get the look of that Alien out of his head that pulsating metallic thing on that screen. Anna had decided later to warn him to tell no one about what he knew and had seen - not even her ANI connection Fay. Ravn had agreed that it wasn’t likely to be healthy and Carl had not failed to notice how that ANI females eyes narrowed around both him and his former copper. Ravn hadn’t seemed too happy at being evacuated to the Lost for Words but then Rav had never seemed too happy around the Navy.
Wandering into the busy canteen Carl plopped down beside Elaen and a group of other lounging AF coppers. Already the on board guests had commenced congregating into tight groups. In another area the Commander could see Gregor with Jollo and various members of the CAO staff including the suddenly well known Ghia.
‘Commander’, said El nodding as she picked over some limp looking salad.
‘Dieting?’, questioned Carl.
‘Hardly’, said El, ‘I don’t know it seemed like a good idea at the time. Did you hear about Rud?’ she asked.
‘I guess he got tired of waiting and provoked a quick end’, said Carl.
‘Maybe’, said the Lt. Constable suspiciously, ’you seen the body?’
‘No, why would I?’ asked Carl.
‘I don’t know it just seems a little odd to me. All these Marines and they couldn’t detain one feeble run away clerk wasn’t he being kept in shackles?’, asked El.
‘Trust me’, said Carl, ’let it go. Its not our jurisdiction. I’ll be happy to get off this boat without getting involved in any fuss - the head mistress seems to have taken an instant dislike to me and your love too! Speaking of which where is our mutual associate?’
‘Shadowing Anna he takes his responsibilities very seriously’, noted Elaen.
‘Don’t tell me your jealous?’ questioned Carl grinning.
‘Are you?’ returned Elaen.
‘Hmmm not really at least not anymore’, said Carl thinking deeply for a moment before adding, ‘a question with a question, I see I trained you well!’
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 76 - Jump Troops
The Storm Wraith Marine Transport Ship skimmed slowly but skilfully around and between various items: floating wreckage, other military vehicles, and the occasional vacuum suited individual as it hugged and strafed along the damaged ArgonForge Complex Four. The pilot at the controls was feeling deeply paranoid, and half expected to come under assault from the Lost for Words Carrier - even though an open attack by Fay would be madness. Within the modified military Argon Express TP class ship its principle passenger was the Admiral Sven Hale known as the Oracle to many, the Open Eye to a few. Having lately departed the Weapons Forge Hale settled down and assumed the role of Master of Marines. All around Sven a series of massed tactical screens sprung into life under his ministrations supplying him with vital scan and other intelligence data. It felt good to be back at the beating heart of an action - even in a cramped TP mobile operations room.
The main subject of his enquiry remained Anna Dei (her probable position marked out via the Trace he had covertly detected on her person at the Reaper Ball). Otherwise his own scattered forces locations were clearly marked by each individuals (now remote activated) electronic identity tag. Whatever was going on within the factory itself, Sven noted, Anna’s Trace was conveniently camping out in the Station Runners private office / living space. A little earlier Hale had lost Tag contact (his only link) with the group he now considered his advanced party. These Argons had been sent out on what was supposed to be a soft operation: simply to bring in the RJL Administrator for questioning - serving a legitimate warrant. However, this was prior to the station coming under direct attack and its internal bulkhead doors coming down making simple on board transit anything but easy. The Admiral was also concerned by the decampment of extra forces from the very obtrusive Carrier.
Sven despite such unexpected setbacks had still been reasonably confident - at least at first - that the team he had assigned the initial task were: still well placed, more than ably equipped, capable, and retained certain other hidden advantages. The Admiral had preferred to err on the side of caution for example: the squad while officially designated as Storm Wraiths were in fact mercenaries in Marine garb headed by a very skilled assassin known as The Mastery - as such they were far from a regular group. Hale fully expected these troops to prove a lot more able and unrestricted in their approach if and when required. Aided by a communication blackout once let off the leash Sven had been sure for a host of reasons that The Mastery would do whatever needed to be done.
Unfortunately the situation on the forge was anything but stable or straight forward being a believer that flexibility was the key to success Hale had decamped by GTD to this ship and departed through the open bay door (an exit obligingly forced by Fays Marines for there own reinforcements). With The Mastery’s squad now MIA either KIA or somehow shielded from signal transmission and bogged down Hale had decided to make use of his own greater mobility. Despite all the ongoing confusion the Admiral still retained a clear perfect fix on his probable target, and with the complexes shields down this was just too good an opportunity to miss. The great pity was the fact that Hale needed a proper visual confirmation of the targets identity and dared not just GTD Anna out to his custody - although this outcome was becoming increasing desirable - (Sven feared the trace might have been passed on to somebody else). Therefore the Admiral had to get forces in. The bad news seemed to be the fact that by scan Anna (if the Trace was Anna) was anything but alone.
Taking control via a command interface Hale began scooping out his diffuse on station forces by GTD to create a suitable strike team - much to their surprise and short term consternation. Most of these Marines were split up in small parties ostensibly securing a mixed bag of AFC 4 guests and dignitaries and Sven wasn’t going to waste time on comm’s with explanations nor give away the game by broadcasting his general intent.
Quickly as the Admiral sifted and lifted by GTD he also recorded the coalescing units future orders for a last segment data burst upon their arrival back at his AFC 4 planned rally point. Hale then matched up the icons and deposited them directly by GTD into the Harbour Tower East one level up from that vital Trace, such actions lifting then depositing elsewhere (although normally done with a longer planned run in and thus somewhat better organisation) were known in the Marine boarding trade as Bunny Hops, and had up until very recent times been considered one of the most advanced state of the art fluid tactical insertion manoeuvres. As such Sven was initially quite pleased with himself.
Hale doubted the Professor would come quietly at this stage so his Wraiths were in for some level of confrontation. Luckily Sven was also able to drop in some useful heavy equipment stored on this transport for just such occasions. It was a rag tag assembly, but it would still make a sizable and capable force.
Back on AFC 4 in a fully locked down and isolated warehouse Fays Lightning Spears where settling in and almost ready for action. Gathered around the hastily erected impressive construction that was the Deployment Nexus (a military Teladi invention made from the fusing of various existing technologies including multiple GTDs Triplex scanners and mainline computers into a marvellously functional new whole).
‘We have Red Sparks hitting Harbour Tower East’, yelled out Sparky excitedly. His bum having hardly hit the metal seat attached to the bulky apparatus, while the towering device had barely gone fully operational - in fact his assistants were still hooking themselves in.
‘How many’, asked Overlord as he zeroed in his own wide tactical screens.
‘Ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen, seventeen’, counted up Sparky, ‘plus inert materials.’
‘Ok I have them (one level above the prime) designating as hostile’, said Overlord, ‘they look disorganised to me.’
‘Insert squad alpha here, beta here, gamma here and delta here’, snapped Bar None pointing out positions with a laser marker upon a zooming in three dimensional map, ‘employ the close in tactical filter.’
‘Alerting designating and transporting Sir’, said Sparky arranging and matching the requisite icons with the speedy graceful fluidity of somebody who spent cycles lost in simulated action.
‘What about the Prime Sir’, asked Overlord.
‘Keep her on hold’, said Bar None, ‘but let it ride.’
The disparate disorganised mixed group of Wraiths that had just been deposited by Sven were still integrating their orders, cracking open equipment pods and roughly ascertaining / coming to terms with their new chain of command when the Lightning Spears streamed in with the unprecedented precision of the Deployment Nexus (utilising the systems perhaps unique ability to have a floating active rather than hard fixed GTD delivery).
Hale could hardly believe his eyes as he watched new figures appear on the active scan right on top of his own boarding party at point blank range.
An embarrassingly short time later (without firing a single shot) stripped and retagged for transit Sven’s haphazard assault team troops arrived at the Lost for Words brig and most of them where pretty much - lost for words - while on his own ship Hale - cursing a blue stream - was anything but!
Upon trying but failing to GTD his men out again from the sprung trap, the Admiral had raged at encountering a (after that skilled insertion) not unexpected umbrella of disruptive interference. The sudden interference preventing him from getting a rescue Goner Transport fix on his surrounded Marines. The Admiral knew the cause of this oddity only too well (being familiar with the full capabilities of a Deployment Nexus) in fact he had an expensive unit on order from the Teladi Military himself for his Storm Wraiths. The DN GTD system was without doubt the future for all mobile infantry fast and fluid Troop deployments and extractions. Trust Fay to be among the first to use the new Jump Troop technology the woman had the acquisition skills of a fekking reptilian Teladi herself - in his opinion the wrinkled crone even resembled one.
On AFC 4 below the site of Sven’s and the Lightning Spears various GTD Deliveries the Black Dogs had just demonstrated their expertise by explosively cracking the doors imprisoning and separating their friends and associates within the rooms of the office itself. In fact small streams of smoke were still settling when the Lightning Spears winked out on the level above from their first deployment to crash the party below with another fast insertion light show. The Spears arrival causing a tense Nano-segment until the Black Dogs recognised the big black suits with their white jagged spear devices and instead of opening fire embraced their compatriots from the home Carrier with smiles and clasps.
A little later Siidan and his squad after having broken through the last hatch and slowly magnetically scaling the long lift shaft finally forced the elevator door open on the level of Anna‘s office. To Siidan surprise only to be assisted in by the outreaching arms of awaiting armoured giants. A sharp burst of communications later and Siidan’s own mission was fully aborted. Anna was already in the custody of safe hands, and the lads and himself where carried away by GTD directly back to the Lost for Words for their own debrief. The LoD Squad Leader had to admit to himself that he felt both relieved and cheated by this turn of events: despite the use of the Spears making perfect sense to him and the fact that he wasn’t really sorry to be leaving the still unstable AFC 4.
After Fay was informed via various coded buzz words of the enfolding crisis with Anna’s Queen the Professor being the expert on the ground along with Ravn (as her close support protection) were quickly kitted out in spare Nexus Jump Suits. The extra units of the conspicuous gear being transported in to facilitate a coordinated team transit. Anna had used powered vacuum suits before but being plugged into the pretty much new State of the Art big black combat monstrosities was still something of a thrill. Once shown the basics they were streamed off with a bunch of minders to the last known site of Anna’s Queen. The arrival site had already been deep scanned for hostiles coming up blank. However, nobody really knew what to expect as the Queen had always been by nature a stealthy unit. The arrival rally point was far within the very outer superstructure of the station itself towards the back end of the central hub and technically lay between the space stations walls.
Arriving Anna found she wasn’t missing the absent lurid red glow from the emergency lighting despite the darkness. The suits advanced systems were more than a match for the patchy black creating a composite computer generated image of unsurpassed clarity. What the Professor did immediately noticed - much to her surprise - was that she had arrived not upright but positioned flat on her belly almost jammed into a confined space with a fallen strut lying overhead with little in the way of clearance - this was a new one to her the suit had actually shifted her into the necessary required shape in transit to fit within this irregular space. Ahead other midnight black shadows crabbed around (more Jump Troopers) obscuring her view as a closer figure tapped her on the metal shoulder despite Anna feeling an involuntary shudder - reassuringly it was just her Ravn - watching over his employers welfare as usual. Anna smiled inside her helmet she had decided to forgive his earlier tactical presumption over her earpiece - life was too short.
Beckoned forward by hand gestures the Professor and her bodyguard crawled up until they could rise unto their power assisted hands and knees. A gap clearing before them. Weak starlight was streaming in from a ragged hull breach to reveal in part…a curious husk. What looked like paper thin desiccated remains - the shape although a lot of it was missing in fact terminating in a fragile looking oval shaped outward thrusting edge was unmistakable - at least to Anna - as she had witnessed its livid pulsating image not very long ago. Had the Queen committed suicide after all? Carefully unhooking and opening a flask Anna took a sample: as she fully expected where she made contact the material fell away into a slightly sticky web like dust. What bothered her though was the fact that nearly all the mass of the enlarged creature had vanished - could it have simply drifted away or more likely was she looking at a discarded skin like an arachnids moult? If so where was whatever had emerged from this outer casing?
After lots of wide but fruitless scans as well as a series of very much more detailed local readings not to mention convincing the Troops to try to have the rest of the remains Goner Transported out in one piece (well the procedure was worth a try). Anna and Ravn where whisked out themselves from any potential future danger to the safety of the now overrun with evacuated civilians Carrier. It looked like the Hive access Core test was - for good or ill - at last perhaps finally over.
Gregor was slowly carefully working his way up an external access ladder - feeling quite heroic in the zero gravity - and almost fully outside AFC 4 when to his own unexpected disappointment communications came on again and he was hailed by Ghia. So much for his direct action to get assistance.
‘Administrator you won’t believe this but everything is back on line again, Sir. The inter and intra-link, the ICCS the COMSYS internal scanners the evacuation cascades the entire CAO control suite! It just unfroze and started working again’ explained the acting Helmsman.
Cursed typical, thought Gregor, ‘Fine, good work. Can you patch me through to the Lost for Words I’m just about to hit fully open space once I get out of this enclosed chute.’
‘Certainly Sir one moment’, said Ghia.
Sometime later…
Fay looked back at the exploded remains of the stricken Complex. It was a shock when she checked the time and realised just how little the wider universe had moved on since the collision. Typical to tactical actions the moments had seemed to elongate measured in all the individual heartbeats that separated the thin barrier between being alive and being forever (in most peoples cases at least) dead!
It would seem AFC 4 had survived after all even if it looked in worse condition than ever. AF were proving no slouches. As soon as the station was empty of personnel. ‘The Great Maker’ a Large Transport capable of carrying whole stations in kit form jumped in and commenced to disgorge vast tonnages of mass including an army of swarming repair and construction drones that had commenced to dissect and possibly repair various parts of the complex. Officially the complex was to get a major upgrade rather than be just repaired or fully replaced.
However, the Commander in Chief wondered was this exercise in renewal just corporate smoke and mirrors. The ArgonForge Complex Four had become more than a simple manufacturing asset it was now a symbol of Argon fidelity - so demolition was perhaps not seen as politically astute. Fay nonetheless wondered, how much of the exploded three dimensional puzzle being towed around by tractor beams and robotic units in this storm of activity - when the brute was reconstructed - would really be original AFC 4 and how much would be new station material still being unloaded into space - then again, thought Fay, maybe I just have a suspicious mind.
Such industry was an impressive sight but Fay knew she couldn’t daydream out the portal all cycle or watch the external camera views no matter how fascinating. As ever it was back to business. Moving to her desk the tired Commander in Chief flicked through some internal views instead and groaned the Lost for Words was crowded with bloody civilians much to her extreme annoyance! Gregor had harangued her into a very active evacuation of the final denizens from the then still dangerously unstable complex. Secretly Fay had deployed the on site Deployment Nexus and stripped the populace out section by section with remarkable efficiency.
Every station, Fay mused, should have a DN GTD for emergency evacuations, but the military would never permit it - not yet anyway - because of the potential security abuses. Apparently even the Teladi had some limits as to what they would sell and to whom. Pressured by the other races the Reptilians had agreed only to supply their amalgamated system to other legitimate governments for use by proper military forces. Probably this concession was only made because it required the use of sealed units that could only be supplied by other parties including such unlikely factions as the Goners and the Paranid. Creative use of even the basic GTD and JD technologies was already a major security headache for the Federal Argon Police and the Navy. Given the difficulties caused by these (now deemed) mundane advances it was maybe for the best that the radical innovation of the Hive access Core was now likely to be buried forever! While such items as the DN GTD was to stay for as long as possible in strictly military application. Still Fay suspected sooner or later some dodgy Teladi would smuggle a DN GTD to their pirate buddies in secret.
In fact on the surface - at least politically - ignoring some obvious loose ends that could be patch welded over everything had turned out remarkably neat and tidy for Fay. Maybe the universe was watched over by some benevolent entity after all. The remarkable discovery of a true sentience behind or simply part of Anna’s Queen created a plethora of questions. However, it provided one clear answer - the Hive access Core technology was inherently unsafe - just as Febr had suggested. If it was a technology in the traditional sense at all and not a truly living thing. Scans seemed to suggest the remains of AFC 4 were clean from contamination however the Hive and the Queen were always pretty resistant to discovery. Fay also couldn’t help but wonder would those AF bots encounter, but fail to notice, any evidence of the aliens presence or passage.
Anna was now convinced the device having been in operation longer than any other study had simply matured into a truer form - perhaps this process being accelerated by a perceived threat to the complex where it had nested. It was interesting that the Queen had gone very quickly from being passive and covertly self destructive to actively defensive and self preserving. Fay wondered if Anna’s Queen had simply been corrupted by the Professors own interactions with its systems, but Anna insisted on the theory of maturation to a natural point where it either became self aware or a vehicle for an external intellect from the other side (that strange dimension that febr and Anna believed the core existed in). Either maturation theory was a smarter hypothesis to put out. Fay was backing the self aware theory herself - as it gave out all the right warning signs - given the Argons experience with the Xenon.
Fay had kindly briefed Admiral Hale in full when she returned his men - stating their capture was just a question of mistaken identity due to poor communications. Of course the Commander in Chief also claimed her Lightning Spears had been forced to destroy the alien device they had been testing on the forge. Under Fays remit the team had gone in to clean up as soon as the tech commenced to demonstrate a dangerous degree of sentient independence. According to The Commander in Chief their had of course been no real risk. If Hale ever found out the cursed thing had in all probability escaped crammed full of intelligence on the Argon… well that didn’t bare thinking about. Happily though with the Hive access Core likely to be turned into a proscribed technology Anna should no longer be of any great perceived use to the Oracle and Sven Hale would be off Fays back until the next incident of contention between them!
Fay still had the original generator but no longer felt any desire to use it herself and was now sure she could convince Danna to drop it too. So apart from the creatures escape - if it had escaped - (which would be covered up) the test was to the ignorant: despite the technology proving too dangerous, a profound success and need not be an embarrassment. Fay was sure in retrospect many positive lessons could be learned from dissecting this entire fiasco. Certainly the new Jump Troops had more than proved themselves along with the Deployment Nexus. That was a safe breakthrough she would gladly cling to.
Hale as an immediate threat was relatively diffused. The squad Siidan had butchered was a bit of an embarrassment but nothing could be easily proved and Sven she was sure would have his own reasons not to dig too deeply as he had a habit of using dodgy irregular forces for these sorts of operations. The missing unit would just be a mystery - a future ghost story for the birth of the new improved AFC 4. Perhaps, Fay thought, she would spread the rumour that it was a payment enacted for mocking the Reaper with that Ball. It would make a great little soldiers tale - foolish legends had their uses.
The Dei’s remained a problem. Both Anna and her Father would have to be investigated because of Sven’s plot and it was doubtful given this stain of connection to The Split that they would ever be - officially - allowed near another classified project. Emma would have to be either assassinated or rescued, murder would be easier but Fay supposed she owed Anna at least an attempt at extraction. The Commander in Chief was feeling a bit cold and fell but knew she might well feel full of sympathy for her forced recruit later. Something about Anna just rubbed her up the wrong way was it because the Professor and Febr had once been lovers?
Febr was still completely out of it - the brain boost now seemed entirely unnecessary - then again with an alien creature possibly loose if he did recover his mind maybe the enhancement might prove invaluable later? Rud Chakr had been killed trying to escape after being brought onboard the Lost for Words. At least that was Fays story to Sven and she was sticking with it. Fay would find the ex traitor some position in the Legion of the Damned. AF, Sven and Gregor had made more than enough capitol out of the young fool! The LoD Commander in Chief knew Sven didn’t believe a word of this particular tale but if anything that fact only pleased her all the more.
Ravn bothered her he was still firmly attached to Anna. The seconded soldier knew far too much - even possibly that something strange had survived sloughing its skin on ArgonForge Four. Fay was tempted to have that Argon taken out without mercy but she was beginning to suspect that he might be working for somebody else and would love to know just who before instigating any action she couldn‘t retract! Perhaps Ravn was reporting to one of the more astute Senators, Generals or BD? At least Fay was now reasonably content that Anna’s pet Killer wasn’t one of Hales Assassins. Nonetheless, when it came to Rav, Fay decided, she would continue to watch developments closely.
Anna found herself staring at the now carefully preserved skin in the Lost for Words medical bay. Surprisingly it had survived the Goner Transport intact. Whatever the Queen truly was and wherever it had come from it could easily have killed them all. Clearly the entity had at the last easily gained full access to the forges ICCS and could simply have turned off life support or even activated the complexes self destruct. Instead it had instigated a lockdown until it was able to flee. The Professor wondered did the Queen this creature or artefact have comparable emotions to Argons. What would it make of the Professor that had raised it from the moment it was spun out from the generator - trying to destroy it - with that expected suicide command. Might something else have happened if she hadn’t told the inherently covert Queen that she was now revealed?
It was worrisome that like everyone else when the chips were down (before she was willing to risk the unknown) Anna had resorted to an act of desperation and potential destruction. The Professors willingness to kill something that was pretty much unique - in this universe at least belatedly appalled her. So much for the trained reasoning of an inquisitive Argon mind - had Febr’s warnings corrupted her? Now perhaps they would never know the true intent / purpose of the creature / artefact. In truth Febr and herself and all the others might have been warping its purpose from the onset with their own petty desires and fumbling efforts to use it. Anna turned away, she hoped it was over she hoped something beautiful had broken free from that skin and left all the ugliness and confusion of its origins behind. The Professor also hoped the Argon species had gotten away with their dangerously unrestrained curiosity - once again - without horrendous consequences but only time would tell!
Ravn was waiting for her in the corridor along with her official minders. Technically she was actually under arrest and was being kept segregated from the main refugees in restricted parts of the ship. Out of loyalty or a desire to preserve RJL for his own reasons Rav was sticking to his Administrator like glue. The fighter had even out of the black vowed to help her get her mother back, Anna found that action had cut through her cynicism and brought unexpected tears to her eyes.
Well this was much better than the AFC 4 brig, thought Alanis lounging on a fold down bunk even if she was currently restricted to these somewhat cramped quarters. It would seem she had piqued the interest of the big cheese on this ship. The crone clearly wanted something from her, well that suited the PVR Star fine she would be more worried if this Commander Fay didn’t. Sha had rarely ever been so happy to be Goner Transported - all that shaking really had been bringing back some bad memories. No matter it was all over and done with now. Picking up a remote Sha hooked into the inter-link and commenced to catch up with all the Universes gossip.
Carl found being back on a Carrier really strange. It brought back lots of good and bad recollections. Despite the externals of the new generation of Argon vessels appearing very different to the earlier models the internal spaces looked, sounded and even smelt very much the same. Apart from all these milling civilians of course - including he realised slightly to his horror himself.
The Commander wasn’t sure how he felt about things now. Was it time for him to leave AFC 4 for just a holiday or for good? Carl couldn’t get the look of that Alien out of his head that pulsating metallic thing on that screen. Anna had decided later to warn him to tell no one about what he knew and had seen - not even her ANI connection Fay. Ravn had agreed that it wasn’t likely to be healthy and Carl had not failed to notice how that ANI females eyes narrowed around both him and his former copper. Ravn hadn’t seemed too happy at being evacuated to the Lost for Words but then Rav had never seemed too happy around the Navy.
Wandering into the busy canteen Carl plopped down beside Elaen and a group of other lounging AF coppers. Already the on board guests had commenced congregating into tight groups. In another area the Commander could see Gregor with Jollo and various members of the CAO staff including the suddenly well known Ghia.
‘Commander’, said El nodding as she picked over some limp looking salad.
‘Dieting?’, questioned Carl.
‘Hardly’, said El, ‘I don’t know it seemed like a good idea at the time. Did you hear about Rud?’ she asked.
‘I guess he got tired of waiting and provoked a quick end’, said Carl.
‘Maybe’, said the Lt. Constable suspiciously, ’you seen the body?’
‘No, why would I?’ asked Carl.
‘I don’t know it just seems a little odd to me. All these Marines and they couldn’t detain one feeble run away clerk wasn’t he being kept in shackles?’, asked El.
‘Trust me’, said Carl, ’let it go. Its not our jurisdiction. I’ll be happy to get off this boat without getting involved in any fuss - the head mistress seems to have taken an instant dislike to me and your love too! Speaking of which where is our mutual associate?’
‘Shadowing Anna he takes his responsibilities very seriously’, noted Elaen.
‘Don’t tell me your jealous?’ questioned Carl grinning.
‘Are you?’ returned Elaen.
‘Hmmm not really at least not anymore’, said Carl thinking deeply for a moment before adding, ‘a question with a question, I see I trained you well!’
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Tue, 13. Nov 07, 19:52, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 77 - More Stories
‘Things could have been worse you know’, said G more than a little drunk, ‘I heard a whole squad of Marines didn’t make it out - vanished without a trace - a whole squad’, repeated G excitedly waving his metal tumbler about to punctuate his pronouncement.
Ravn just looked thoughtful and took a controlled sip of his own watered down and hardly touched drink. The RJL Security Chief and bodyguard was technically just waiting to go back on duty. At the moment for Ravn securing Anna felt like more than a paid job or a duty, it felt like protecting his one chance for future happiness.
‘What do you think happened to them. I heard Pirates infiltrated Four to kidnap Anna dressed as Troopers. Could they have murdered this unit and taken their uniforms?’ asked Garrin (since hanging around with the now revealed Black Dogs) G had become quite interested in military matters at least as boys own adventure stories!
‘If they infiltrated the station dressed as Marines wouldn’t they have had uniforms already to infiltrate with’, said Elaen with a sigh she was still very much sober. A full tumbler rested on the deck beside her despite all Garrin’s prodigious efforts to get her to drink up. Really this was a bit of a nightmare why had she agreed to come here to keep both Rav and Garrin company until Anna and Carl had finished getting reacquainted - all she could think was that G had cornered her at a vulnerable moment and abused the fact that she wasn‘t alone.
‘Maybe they wanted to pretend to be Storm Wraiths’, said Garrin you know sow discord to aid their escape, he didn’t want to give up too soon on his theory.
‘Trust me it isn’t easy to get reusable uniforms off a fully armed hostile squad of Marines’, said Ravn sounding as if he might once have tried this and lived to regret it.
‘According to our host - Pirates where behind everything even the original kidnap of Anna’s mother’, said Elaen sceptically, ‘have you noticed how nobody really wants to talk in detail about the circumstances surrounding The Hammer and Ishchi?’
‘They wont’, said Ravn pretty sure he knew why. The Lone Wolfs tactic was the worst best kept secret of astronavigation. Nobody official ever wanted to talk about how the Five Races misused fly by wire and in built engine design restrictions to place strict limitations on space ship handling especially in relation to speed - it was a taboo subject.
‘I never really thought about that sort of velocity being possible’, said Elaen, ‘if you don’t see a thing you don’t consider the possibility. Now I feel really stupid and I admit a little bit angry. Like I have been fed and swallowed a fat lie or was deliberately misinformed or I don‘t know ill educated by order of the government!’
‘Scary isn’t it’, said G laughing too loudly before taking another swallow of fuel.
G always was a lousy drinker when he abandoned his normal restraint, thought El then asked, ‘Scary what… that it is possible, or that I didn’t think it was or that we were manipulated into almost believing it couldn‘t be done?’
EL had been bored with her ex partners conversation, but this subject did interest her so tossing out these questions was a two for one. Elaen also hoped to keep Garrin preoccupied. With luck G wouldn’t realise how much he was throwing down his neck and would soon do his new found party trick of going either: sullen and quiet, or falling asleep - either would suffice at the moment!
‘All three’, replied Garrin with a smirk, ‘they didn‘t just limit our speed, they limited our perceptions: That was what that crazy Argo broadcast, wasn’t it? or was it… our ambitions or both?’ he asked looking suddenly serious as he tipped up his empty flask into his empty cup, ‘damn all out, all over again!’
‘Here’, said Elaen sloshing more than half of her own drink into Garrin’s tumbler.
‘Thanks, most generous of you to share’, said Garrin mockingly.
With a bored voice Rav explained, ‘It’s too dangerous - that’s why its not talked about, and why the Navy gets so upset with these over tuned Pirate ships these make people stop and think about the wider - somewhat impossible to police - possibilities’, he finished with a concerned straight face.
‘You know you’ve changed’, said G giving Rav a long look, ‘but back on the subject you know what worries me?’ he asked waiting for a reply.
‘What?’ asked Rav and El together rather downheartedly.
‘What bothers me is if the Khaak or the Xenon ever used that sort of thing as a deliberate attack’, G continued, ‘we would be slaughtered like fatted argnu. One hit and your right through a stations shields kaboom!’
‘Why don’t they?’ asked El, ‘not that I want them to, but I would if I was them.’
‘The Xenon probably never considered it they just blindly follow their faulty old programming’, said Ravn, ‘the Khaak I don’t know they might have independently come to the same sort of flight control solutions as ourselves. I suppose it is possible the Khaak fear the anarchic potential of unrestricted flight speeds just as much as we do. Don’t they all live in asteroid fields or something - you can’t zoom around those. I’d be more worried about the people that have used this tactic already: The Pirates.’
‘Anarchic!’ repeated Garrin, ‘makes you wonder though, I mean what are we doing here?’ he asked too seriously lost in some other dark thought.
‘That’s exactly what I was wondering. Why are you here?’ asked El looking hard at Garrin. After all the Courier had the mobility to come and go as he pleased. Why had he docked his ship and hung about on the Lost For Words?
‘Waiting for my partner in crime’, said Garrin temporarily wondering if they would face eventual charges over the Reaper Riot as it was becoming known, ‘she sure fooled us all eh working the whole time for AF R&D. What about you Ravn you want to share your big secret?’
‘I’m going out for some fresh air’, said Rav getting smoothly to his feet and scrambling out through the cramped scout ship to its exit.
‘Fresh air on this rat infested tub’, yelled out Garrin, ’now that is funny!’
Elaen waited until Rav closed the hatch then said, ‘You shouldn’t push him.’
‘Somebody needs too, you won’t, don’t you want to know all the facts about your lover’, asked G, ‘or are you afraid of finding out. At least you knew who I was.’
‘A drunken letch’, said El pushing G over backwards from the front of his right shoulder so that he landed on his back, and spilt the tiny remainder of his drink before she stormed out after Rav.
‘They give and they take away’, mumbled G, ‘well Baby that went well didn’t it.’
Baby for once recognised the rhetorical nature of the comment and didn’t reply.
Garrin lay on his back and stared at the ceiling it made his head spin, but he couldn‘t be bothered moving now he was in that semi comfortable position. Who was his business partner Professor Anna Dei really? he wondered once again. Was there any truth in this - latest - story that the scientist was just doing some covert staff behavioural study: what was it bloody social and working interactions with the complexes system interfaces (it certainly sounded dry enough to be true) a work study for a potential future control upgrade using Boron and Paranid innovations. Some deal Anna had foolishly agreed to in order to secure future funding from AF for more glorious self generated researches in the Xeno Archaeological field. Where did that leave RJL did she plan to use this business to fund the hobby of her researches?
It would be funny if the Pirates assault really was all down to the eluded mistaken assumption that AFC 4 was in fact retooling to mass produce some (in fact none existent) alien weapons. Garrin supposed he could understand how a belief might grow that some weapon project was being headed up by Anna Dei on the forge. After all forges made weapons so what was a renowned Research and Development Professor who dabbled in Xeno Archaeology doing there under cover? It would be ever so simple to make all the wrong assumptions.
Supposedly all this had occurred because a few connected refugees recognised Anna from a stint when she was helping out at a dig in Bala Gi Joy with the renowned genius Febr. That was plausible at least - little went on in their own sectors (no matter how secure) that the pirates didn‘t either monitor at a distance or infiltrate in some manner. Knowing these facts G wouldn’t have believed the high flyer had downgraded to being a mere complex Administrators Personal Assistant either.
Garrin wondered just what he had got himself into, and did he now want to get himself out or not. G knew he was meant to be the silent partner but he would still be closely associated with the former PA while they were in partnership. So was Anna retired from her old career (whatever that truly was with all this military involvement) or was she just using him as some kind of convenient cover. G sighed, he should have known it was all too good to be true. Maybe it was a double bluff and AFC 4 really was about to secretly start production on some prototype armaments maybe that was what this new upgrade was all about, the whole thing was probably just one big clockwork run Navy scheme.
Clearly their was more to this story than anyone was truthfully relating. Well no honest businessman would be wise to trust anything the military said especially during a conflict - they were always up to something underhanded. Nonetheless, it could be worse: Anna might still have been considered a traitor and himself been branded her accomplice, and yes on a more immediate timeline El after being provoked might have stomped on his nuts on the way out!
Elaen easily found Rav he was still in the upper atmospheric guest bay standing alone with his back to a metal railing. To El, Ravn struck a lonely pose as he gazed back towards the still pretty close sleek silver Scout Ship. So lost was the ex soldier(?) that he didn’t immediately register his partners exit from the Discoverer or her approach. In a way Garrin was right, thought the Corporate Copper, she had been avoiding asking some questions fearing where the answers might lead. Rav seemed haunted since he came onboard the Carrier - El was afraid that she knew the reason why.
Looking initially past him and down Elaen could see the long lower depressurised spine bays with their massive hydraulic lifters, clamps and auto tugs. The area was separated from their high nest by walls of metal, but this was pierced by bands of transparent windows allowing her to see the view beyond. The Navy had to be making major use of cargo compression to fit so much into even such a massive craft as this. It was an awesome view. Elaen sighed she doubted Garrin appreciated the fact that for some reason the Navy had given him and his tiny little ship a very honoured berth here.
Sidling up to her fighter Elaen said, ‘Garrin really shouldn’t drink.’
‘Prohibition must be our worst kept law’, replied Rav forcing a smile and putting an arm around her.
‘I know any military command staff I ever met all drank like fish’, said Elaen putting her head on his shoulder.
‘I could tell you some stories’, smiled Ravn idly stroking her hair, then scowled to himself, thinking maybe he couldn’t.
‘Stories’, replied El, ‘so many stories.’
‘Yet never enough to satisfy our morbid curiosity!’ replied Rav.
Was that what it was morbid curiosity just picking at the wound, wondered Elaen.
For a while they stood in silence - oddly it felt good not strained - in any way. For once they were both temporarily free of time critical responsibilities and could enjoy the moment, neither was willing to spoil this time with any more words.
Elsewhere in a tiny cabin on the same massive carrier.
‘So’, said Carl, ‘what happens now?’
‘I wish I knew’, replied Anna shifting around in the small bunk. To Carl Anna appeared insecure and vulnerable a look that once would have been exceptionally unusual for her, but was now almost becoming familiar to the Commander.
Carl brushed away a few stray hairs to look into the alien perfection of Anna’s jade eyes. Without such brief periods of weakness the Commander doubted he could love the Professor he found himself wondering if that was odd or normal. Was it a weakness in himself that some part of him feared her overt strength. All Carl knew was he couldn’t stand to constantly believe she was the stainless steel together person he had first met and nothing more, or was it less. Was he wrong to now find the greater joy in his lovers imperfections.
‘Will you return to AFC 4?’ asked Carl.
‘Would you come with me if I didn’t?’ returned Anna.
‘That depends on where and why?’ replied Carl.
‘But you would seriously think about it?’ asked Anna looking mildly surprised.
‘I’m thinking about it already Anna what would I do?’ asked the Commander.
‘Well you could marry me?’ replied Anna to her own shock.
Carl stared harder, ‘Why would you want to marry me?’ he finally said levelly.
Anna punched him on the arm, ‘Why do you think you dolt?’
‘I don’t know?’ he replied, and he knew it for the honest truth.
‘Maybe that’s why’, said Anna grinning, ‘well?’
‘Why not’, said the Commander, ‘I have nothing else pressing on my schedule.’
Giggling Anna punched him again thinking they had both gone a little mad.
In much more plush guest quarters on the same boat.
‘You could have told me Jollo’, said Gregor, ‘I feel ill used.’
‘I don’t see why you got a more than competent Professor on loan as your PA’, replied the Vice President of Argon Forge.
‘I suppose. Don’t ever expect me to play poker with you again though’, said AFC 4’s Administrator.
Jollo just grinned. The VP didn’t know if Gregor was buying the whole story Fay had concocted with the assistance of himself as ArgonForge, but it was a convenient enough half truth. ANI had got itself into a fair tangle with this one even if the Commander in Chief had more or less convinced herself everything was shiny.
‘Will you return to break in the improved forge’, asked Jollo.
‘No’, said Gregor, ‘only to hand her over. It’s somebody else’s turn now. With your permission I will soon be retiring to AP to pursue other interests.’
‘Is Sven still interested in backing you then?’ asked the VP thoughtfully.
‘Very much so’, replied Gregor watching his kinsman intently.
‘That’s good. I was a bit worried with all these ah… strange events…’ said Jollo.
‘So was I but apparently the faction Sven is in league with remains very happy to put my name forward’ , replied Gregor.
‘To politics and interesting times’, said Jollo raising his glass.
‘Politics’, said Gregor thinking times could get a little too interesting. To think he had almost instigated a secret plan to scuttle the - in his mind - ruined AFC 4 as a grand send off… oops!
‘What is this place?’ asked Rud.
‘We call it the Fortress of the Damned’, smiled the brutal looking guard escorting him through the stone and metal corridors.
‘Very cheery’, said the Dead Traitor.
‘It’s the only place safe for ghosts like yourself’, noted the unnamed Marine.
‘The rumours of my demise are all highly exaggerated’, said Rud.
‘That’s what you think’, smiled the scarred fighter opening a door.
‘So what am I doing here?’ asked the Clerk.
‘Being properly buried’, returned the Guard.
‘That’s what I get for asking silly questions’, said Rud worriedly.
‘I’m taking you to the Farm’, said the Marine not entirely unkindly.
‘The farm?’, asked Chakr puzzled, still it sounded better than another cell. He just hoped he wasn’t going to end up being the fertiliser. All this talk of being a ghost and The Damned wasn’t exactly good for his increasingly nervous disposition. Nor was seeing the news casts that proclaimed he had been slain trying to escape.
‘I hate the fekkin Split’, complained Amon, ‘that was one thing I always agreed with Jorac about. The Devil couldn’t stand them and barely tolerated ever having them - even temporarily - on Freedom Station’, Amon increasingly found himself reminiscing about the old times.
‘To Hell with the Devil’, said Jon angrily, ‘Look we’re not here to make love to the locals’, he said with a play acting shudder, ‘just to pick up some slaves then sell them on at a bloody loss and do a little reconnaissance around this Warlords Fortress.’
‘Why ask for me?’ queried the Grey Wolves Squad Leader still unhappy about this almost solitary mission. Amon felt like a floating target in this old freighter.
‘Why you? I heard you can keep something of a cool head’, said Jon, ‘and I refused to go out again with that fekker Arke. Don’t disappoint me Amon all my spare tolerance has been used up by my last partner and then some. Just follow my orders and everything will be fine and dandy’, noted Flyn.
‘Are you always this touchy or did you get up this morning with a sore tooth?’, asked Amon.
‘OK Sly bring us within eight kms of the Pirate Base’, said Jon ignoring the question.
‘Course plotted timers set would you like me to initiate SETA’, asked the Computer called Sly.
‘On my mark’, said Jon jumping into the pilots seat of the Caiman.
‘What tired of my conversation already?’ asked Amon from the co pilots chair.
‘Mark’, said Jon in answer.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 77 - More Stories
‘Things could have been worse you know’, said G more than a little drunk, ‘I heard a whole squad of Marines didn’t make it out - vanished without a trace - a whole squad’, repeated G excitedly waving his metal tumbler about to punctuate his pronouncement.
Ravn just looked thoughtful and took a controlled sip of his own watered down and hardly touched drink. The RJL Security Chief and bodyguard was technically just waiting to go back on duty. At the moment for Ravn securing Anna felt like more than a paid job or a duty, it felt like protecting his one chance for future happiness.
‘What do you think happened to them. I heard Pirates infiltrated Four to kidnap Anna dressed as Troopers. Could they have murdered this unit and taken their uniforms?’ asked Garrin (since hanging around with the now revealed Black Dogs) G had become quite interested in military matters at least as boys own adventure stories!
‘If they infiltrated the station dressed as Marines wouldn’t they have had uniforms already to infiltrate with’, said Elaen with a sigh she was still very much sober. A full tumbler rested on the deck beside her despite all Garrin’s prodigious efforts to get her to drink up. Really this was a bit of a nightmare why had she agreed to come here to keep both Rav and Garrin company until Anna and Carl had finished getting reacquainted - all she could think was that G had cornered her at a vulnerable moment and abused the fact that she wasn‘t alone.
‘Maybe they wanted to pretend to be Storm Wraiths’, said Garrin you know sow discord to aid their escape, he didn’t want to give up too soon on his theory.
‘Trust me it isn’t easy to get reusable uniforms off a fully armed hostile squad of Marines’, said Ravn sounding as if he might once have tried this and lived to regret it.
‘According to our host - Pirates where behind everything even the original kidnap of Anna’s mother’, said Elaen sceptically, ‘have you noticed how nobody really wants to talk in detail about the circumstances surrounding The Hammer and Ishchi?’
‘They wont’, said Ravn pretty sure he knew why. The Lone Wolfs tactic was the worst best kept secret of astronavigation. Nobody official ever wanted to talk about how the Five Races misused fly by wire and in built engine design restrictions to place strict limitations on space ship handling especially in relation to speed - it was a taboo subject.
‘I never really thought about that sort of velocity being possible’, said Elaen, ‘if you don’t see a thing you don’t consider the possibility. Now I feel really stupid and I admit a little bit angry. Like I have been fed and swallowed a fat lie or was deliberately misinformed or I don‘t know ill educated by order of the government!’
‘Scary isn’t it’, said G laughing too loudly before taking another swallow of fuel.
G always was a lousy drinker when he abandoned his normal restraint, thought El then asked, ‘Scary what… that it is possible, or that I didn’t think it was or that we were manipulated into almost believing it couldn‘t be done?’
EL had been bored with her ex partners conversation, but this subject did interest her so tossing out these questions was a two for one. Elaen also hoped to keep Garrin preoccupied. With luck G wouldn’t realise how much he was throwing down his neck and would soon do his new found party trick of going either: sullen and quiet, or falling asleep - either would suffice at the moment!
‘All three’, replied Garrin with a smirk, ‘they didn‘t just limit our speed, they limited our perceptions: That was what that crazy Argo broadcast, wasn’t it? or was it… our ambitions or both?’ he asked looking suddenly serious as he tipped up his empty flask into his empty cup, ‘damn all out, all over again!’
‘Here’, said Elaen sloshing more than half of her own drink into Garrin’s tumbler.
‘Thanks, most generous of you to share’, said Garrin mockingly.
With a bored voice Rav explained, ‘It’s too dangerous - that’s why its not talked about, and why the Navy gets so upset with these over tuned Pirate ships these make people stop and think about the wider - somewhat impossible to police - possibilities’, he finished with a concerned straight face.
‘You know you’ve changed’, said G giving Rav a long look, ‘but back on the subject you know what worries me?’ he asked waiting for a reply.
‘What?’ asked Rav and El together rather downheartedly.
‘What bothers me is if the Khaak or the Xenon ever used that sort of thing as a deliberate attack’, G continued, ‘we would be slaughtered like fatted argnu. One hit and your right through a stations shields kaboom!’
‘Why don’t they?’ asked El, ‘not that I want them to, but I would if I was them.’
‘The Xenon probably never considered it they just blindly follow their faulty old programming’, said Ravn, ‘the Khaak I don’t know they might have independently come to the same sort of flight control solutions as ourselves. I suppose it is possible the Khaak fear the anarchic potential of unrestricted flight speeds just as much as we do. Don’t they all live in asteroid fields or something - you can’t zoom around those. I’d be more worried about the people that have used this tactic already: The Pirates.’
‘Anarchic!’ repeated Garrin, ‘makes you wonder though, I mean what are we doing here?’ he asked too seriously lost in some other dark thought.
‘That’s exactly what I was wondering. Why are you here?’ asked El looking hard at Garrin. After all the Courier had the mobility to come and go as he pleased. Why had he docked his ship and hung about on the Lost For Words?
‘Waiting for my partner in crime’, said Garrin temporarily wondering if they would face eventual charges over the Reaper Riot as it was becoming known, ‘she sure fooled us all eh working the whole time for AF R&D. What about you Ravn you want to share your big secret?’
‘I’m going out for some fresh air’, said Rav getting smoothly to his feet and scrambling out through the cramped scout ship to its exit.
‘Fresh air on this rat infested tub’, yelled out Garrin, ’now that is funny!’
Elaen waited until Rav closed the hatch then said, ‘You shouldn’t push him.’
‘Somebody needs too, you won’t, don’t you want to know all the facts about your lover’, asked G, ‘or are you afraid of finding out. At least you knew who I was.’
‘A drunken letch’, said El pushing G over backwards from the front of his right shoulder so that he landed on his back, and spilt the tiny remainder of his drink before she stormed out after Rav.
‘They give and they take away’, mumbled G, ‘well Baby that went well didn’t it.’
Baby for once recognised the rhetorical nature of the comment and didn’t reply.
Garrin lay on his back and stared at the ceiling it made his head spin, but he couldn‘t be bothered moving now he was in that semi comfortable position. Who was his business partner Professor Anna Dei really? he wondered once again. Was there any truth in this - latest - story that the scientist was just doing some covert staff behavioural study: what was it bloody social and working interactions with the complexes system interfaces (it certainly sounded dry enough to be true) a work study for a potential future control upgrade using Boron and Paranid innovations. Some deal Anna had foolishly agreed to in order to secure future funding from AF for more glorious self generated researches in the Xeno Archaeological field. Where did that leave RJL did she plan to use this business to fund the hobby of her researches?
It would be funny if the Pirates assault really was all down to the eluded mistaken assumption that AFC 4 was in fact retooling to mass produce some (in fact none existent) alien weapons. Garrin supposed he could understand how a belief might grow that some weapon project was being headed up by Anna Dei on the forge. After all forges made weapons so what was a renowned Research and Development Professor who dabbled in Xeno Archaeology doing there under cover? It would be ever so simple to make all the wrong assumptions.
Supposedly all this had occurred because a few connected refugees recognised Anna from a stint when she was helping out at a dig in Bala Gi Joy with the renowned genius Febr. That was plausible at least - little went on in their own sectors (no matter how secure) that the pirates didn‘t either monitor at a distance or infiltrate in some manner. Knowing these facts G wouldn’t have believed the high flyer had downgraded to being a mere complex Administrators Personal Assistant either.
Garrin wondered just what he had got himself into, and did he now want to get himself out or not. G knew he was meant to be the silent partner but he would still be closely associated with the former PA while they were in partnership. So was Anna retired from her old career (whatever that truly was with all this military involvement) or was she just using him as some kind of convenient cover. G sighed, he should have known it was all too good to be true. Maybe it was a double bluff and AFC 4 really was about to secretly start production on some prototype armaments maybe that was what this new upgrade was all about, the whole thing was probably just one big clockwork run Navy scheme.
Clearly their was more to this story than anyone was truthfully relating. Well no honest businessman would be wise to trust anything the military said especially during a conflict - they were always up to something underhanded. Nonetheless, it could be worse: Anna might still have been considered a traitor and himself been branded her accomplice, and yes on a more immediate timeline El after being provoked might have stomped on his nuts on the way out!
Elaen easily found Rav he was still in the upper atmospheric guest bay standing alone with his back to a metal railing. To El, Ravn struck a lonely pose as he gazed back towards the still pretty close sleek silver Scout Ship. So lost was the ex soldier(?) that he didn’t immediately register his partners exit from the Discoverer or her approach. In a way Garrin was right, thought the Corporate Copper, she had been avoiding asking some questions fearing where the answers might lead. Rav seemed haunted since he came onboard the Carrier - El was afraid that she knew the reason why.
Looking initially past him and down Elaen could see the long lower depressurised spine bays with their massive hydraulic lifters, clamps and auto tugs. The area was separated from their high nest by walls of metal, but this was pierced by bands of transparent windows allowing her to see the view beyond. The Navy had to be making major use of cargo compression to fit so much into even such a massive craft as this. It was an awesome view. Elaen sighed she doubted Garrin appreciated the fact that for some reason the Navy had given him and his tiny little ship a very honoured berth here.
Sidling up to her fighter Elaen said, ‘Garrin really shouldn’t drink.’
‘Prohibition must be our worst kept law’, replied Rav forcing a smile and putting an arm around her.
‘I know any military command staff I ever met all drank like fish’, said Elaen putting her head on his shoulder.
‘I could tell you some stories’, smiled Ravn idly stroking her hair, then scowled to himself, thinking maybe he couldn’t.
‘Stories’, replied El, ‘so many stories.’
‘Yet never enough to satisfy our morbid curiosity!’ replied Rav.
Was that what it was morbid curiosity just picking at the wound, wondered Elaen.
For a while they stood in silence - oddly it felt good not strained - in any way. For once they were both temporarily free of time critical responsibilities and could enjoy the moment, neither was willing to spoil this time with any more words.
Elsewhere in a tiny cabin on the same massive carrier.
‘So’, said Carl, ‘what happens now?’
‘I wish I knew’, replied Anna shifting around in the small bunk. To Carl Anna appeared insecure and vulnerable a look that once would have been exceptionally unusual for her, but was now almost becoming familiar to the Commander.
Carl brushed away a few stray hairs to look into the alien perfection of Anna’s jade eyes. Without such brief periods of weakness the Commander doubted he could love the Professor he found himself wondering if that was odd or normal. Was it a weakness in himself that some part of him feared her overt strength. All Carl knew was he couldn’t stand to constantly believe she was the stainless steel together person he had first met and nothing more, or was it less. Was he wrong to now find the greater joy in his lovers imperfections.
‘Will you return to AFC 4?’ asked Carl.
‘Would you come with me if I didn’t?’ returned Anna.
‘That depends on where and why?’ replied Carl.
‘But you would seriously think about it?’ asked Anna looking mildly surprised.
‘I’m thinking about it already Anna what would I do?’ asked the Commander.
‘Well you could marry me?’ replied Anna to her own shock.
Carl stared harder, ‘Why would you want to marry me?’ he finally said levelly.
Anna punched him on the arm, ‘Why do you think you dolt?’
‘I don’t know?’ he replied, and he knew it for the honest truth.
‘Maybe that’s why’, said Anna grinning, ‘well?’
‘Why not’, said the Commander, ‘I have nothing else pressing on my schedule.’
Giggling Anna punched him again thinking they had both gone a little mad.
In much more plush guest quarters on the same boat.
‘You could have told me Jollo’, said Gregor, ‘I feel ill used.’
‘I don’t see why you got a more than competent Professor on loan as your PA’, replied the Vice President of Argon Forge.
‘I suppose. Don’t ever expect me to play poker with you again though’, said AFC 4’s Administrator.
Jollo just grinned. The VP didn’t know if Gregor was buying the whole story Fay had concocted with the assistance of himself as ArgonForge, but it was a convenient enough half truth. ANI had got itself into a fair tangle with this one even if the Commander in Chief had more or less convinced herself everything was shiny.
‘Will you return to break in the improved forge’, asked Jollo.
‘No’, said Gregor, ‘only to hand her over. It’s somebody else’s turn now. With your permission I will soon be retiring to AP to pursue other interests.’
‘Is Sven still interested in backing you then?’ asked the VP thoughtfully.
‘Very much so’, replied Gregor watching his kinsman intently.
‘That’s good. I was a bit worried with all these ah… strange events…’ said Jollo.
‘So was I but apparently the faction Sven is in league with remains very happy to put my name forward’ , replied Gregor.
‘To politics and interesting times’, said Jollo raising his glass.
‘Politics’, said Gregor thinking times could get a little too interesting. To think he had almost instigated a secret plan to scuttle the - in his mind - ruined AFC 4 as a grand send off… oops!
‘What is this place?’ asked Rud.
‘We call it the Fortress of the Damned’, smiled the brutal looking guard escorting him through the stone and metal corridors.
‘Very cheery’, said the Dead Traitor.
‘It’s the only place safe for ghosts like yourself’, noted the unnamed Marine.
‘The rumours of my demise are all highly exaggerated’, said Rud.
‘That’s what you think’, smiled the scarred fighter opening a door.
‘So what am I doing here?’ asked the Clerk.
‘Being properly buried’, returned the Guard.
‘That’s what I get for asking silly questions’, said Rud worriedly.
‘I’m taking you to the Farm’, said the Marine not entirely unkindly.
‘The farm?’, asked Chakr puzzled, still it sounded better than another cell. He just hoped he wasn’t going to end up being the fertiliser. All this talk of being a ghost and The Damned wasn’t exactly good for his increasingly nervous disposition. Nor was seeing the news casts that proclaimed he had been slain trying to escape.
‘I hate the fekkin Split’, complained Amon, ‘that was one thing I always agreed with Jorac about. The Devil couldn’t stand them and barely tolerated ever having them - even temporarily - on Freedom Station’, Amon increasingly found himself reminiscing about the old times.
‘To Hell with the Devil’, said Jon angrily, ‘Look we’re not here to make love to the locals’, he said with a play acting shudder, ‘just to pick up some slaves then sell them on at a bloody loss and do a little reconnaissance around this Warlords Fortress.’
‘Why ask for me?’ queried the Grey Wolves Squad Leader still unhappy about this almost solitary mission. Amon felt like a floating target in this old freighter.
‘Why you? I heard you can keep something of a cool head’, said Jon, ‘and I refused to go out again with that fekker Arke. Don’t disappoint me Amon all my spare tolerance has been used up by my last partner and then some. Just follow my orders and everything will be fine and dandy’, noted Flyn.
‘Are you always this touchy or did you get up this morning with a sore tooth?’, asked Amon.
‘OK Sly bring us within eight kms of the Pirate Base’, said Jon ignoring the question.
‘Course plotted timers set would you like me to initiate SETA’, asked the Computer called Sly.
‘On my mark’, said Jon jumping into the pilots seat of the Caiman.
‘What tired of my conversation already?’ asked Amon from the co pilots chair.
‘Mark’, said Jon in answer.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Fri, 16. Nov 07, 10:12, edited 1 time in total.
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Paranoid66
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Reapers Passage
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 78 - Some Diabolical Beginnings
Tur Ryn - the Devil - the Arch High Fallen Angel recently liked to sit in a particular comfortable chair. The furniture was installed in front of a massive plastic glass construction in his stations brig amusingly the Devil named this water retaining prison his aquarium. Once settled and cosy like an old Argon on some back to basics primitive colony resting by an open fireside Tur felt warmed by the view. Taking a peculiar delight in the prisoners he referred to as his pets. It was a regular necessary ritual to his mind once his captives were installed, but the Devil also found it quite soothing so much so that it was far from a chore - more of a newfound (hobby / entertainment) for the infernal one. In fact he often settled with a flask of warm tea.
Even before the arrival of the Boron Tur had learned to enjoy watching the non sentient fish. At first his new naked blue tentacle sporting guests had railed against their confinement. The aquatic aliens desperately assaulting the almost unbreakable transparent barrier and making what Tur could only assume were rude gestures with their body parts - not to mention squirting a prodigious amount of ink as cover - a few stalwart rebels still misbehaved in all these banal ways on a regular basis, but the powerful filters and scrubbers the Devil had purposely installed had been designed to quickly remove such impediments to his placid but nonetheless torturous voyeurism.
Other individuals tended to jet away at his approach hiding behind or among the lush common brown seaweed or the rocks Tur had so kindly placed until their ever curious tormentor departed. Somehow that was even more musing to the Arch villain. It was interesting to note from transcripts of monitored conversations why they hid some refused to put on a show for their captor, others were truly embarrassed to be placed on display like living ornaments or just felt unsurprisingly uncomfortable and uneasy under the hard alien scrutiny of their prison warden. A few floaters however glided forth to stare back with the Boron equivalent of dumb insolence or to Tur's great joy a very impotent malice.
Almost all his guests at one time or another tried in vain to communicate asking why their captor was doing this, pleading or demanding to be released. A few made promises of ransoms others laughably tried threats warning that the Argon Pirate would come to a bad end at the hands of the Kingdoms powerful(?) navy. In answer to all these reactions Tur paid little heed as if he heard and understood nothing. The Devil just smiled and watched, watched and smiled occasionally sipping his tea or tilting his cup as if making a non alcoholic toast. Meanwhile (whether Tur was present or absent) his cameras and microphones recorded and his team reviewed and analysed each aquarium residents every word and interaction in the end the scheme was if anything over extravagant.
Despite the plan being over the top many of the recordings themselves became quite fascinating to Tur - even when entirely irrelevant to his need. It would appear sentient creatures really did make the best pets - at least in the short term. Passive resistance was however inevitable and a few either losing hope or rightly believing the Pirate needed them alive for some nefarious and unpleasant end started to deliberately starve themselves as a means of reasserting some measure of control over their horrid zoo like existence. Still by then it hardly mattered - it didn’t take long for the Devil to identify those that would serve him best for both of his purposes. The first candidates for the most diabolical plan being the easiest to find. All Tur Ryn needed for that one was some strong resilient young Boron flesh.
The Fallen Angels darkest design was an insane inspiration that was originally going to be his scheme of last resort but Tur found he couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that: He himself would curse himself and yet probably still be bendable to his own vile purpose (once the idea had coalesced the Devil just couldn’t let it go) the whole sinister twisted plot became enthralling carrying something of the imagined thrill that in the most imaginative and compelling tall tales belonged to the mad scientist or the most fell of evil geniuses! The very idea that while playing the Devil here he would be doing something - perhaps unique - as well as shattering any number of moral taboos was just too difficult for the Demi-Argon as he now classified himself to resist. After his mental predecessors Wyrm Slaying it just seemed so right even if only the Pirate Lord himself would ever know the whole facts. Somehow the privacy of the endeavour only made it all the more deliciously wicked. Tur doubted Faith would ever consider doing such an outrageous and atrocious thing: only he was capable of such utter callous depravity - so be it!
Therefore when everything was in order the Devil made ready by leaving the more traditional plan and the other Boron to his current favourite Fallen Angel ‘Jess’ telling no one of his actual intensions (after all no one else really understood the entirety of his true fuller nature). Tur then had his first test subjects netted separated put into stasis - packaged, and delivered for transit. Happy with his progress Tur relayed some general instructions (to cover most potentialities) until his return and with great gusto and a small party of underlings to see him off the Lord of the Free Fallen Angels boarded the prepped jump capable Falcon Hauler, and exited Purgatory into the very familiar slightly blood tinged space of Priests Pity at last alone - not counting his cargo.
His current ship ‘The Hound of the Hunt’ though nothing special was loaded to the max with stolen energy cells and would enable Tur to make multiple jumps to his final destination. The Devil never went straight to any of his Buried Hoards. It felt good to be back in the wide dark even if this - somewhat uninspired - Teladi ship was hardly one of his favourites. The Hound being chosen largely because it was a lot less conspicuous than a Pirate Nova Raider, or his newest favourite toy a legitimately bought Paranid m3+ medusa.
‘Dog a little suitable music for the trip - Carl Orff Carmina Burana - I think’, said Tur to the ships computer.
‘Music initiated’, said Dog.
‘Excellent - the pathetic Goners cultural researches had their uses - that certainly hit’s the fiendish spot’, now where shall we go first thought Tur, linking across from the Jump Drive command menu into the universe map, why not a short one to keep it random Split Fire South Gate, perfect!
‘Jump drive charging ten percent, twenty percent…’ commenced Dog.
That too was welcome music to his ears. This was living - to go and do as you pleased (once before his first reincarnation the awakening on Aladna Hill and Kerry - such pleasures - freely taken would have been enough, but not anymore!)
With a flare Tur fell away once more into both spiralling light and deep darkness.
Elsewhere within the Split Sector of Rhonkar’s Clouds deep in a less than brilliantly hidden Pirate Base.
‘What a sorry looking bunch’, said Jon with exaggerated feeling.
‘Goodsss are fine not sssick’, hissed the Split Pirates Slave Agent a smiling pompous little Teladi in a fancy black robe covered in spiralling green glowing embroidery. Jon had noticed before how Teladi when you found yourself in the unfortunate position of being their sole customer liked to smile at you a lot. This smiling usually occurring just before they took a big bite out of your credit balance utilising their wide mouthful of very even and abnormally sparkling (against the deep green of their skin) teeth.
‘I don’t know’ , said Jon peering between the bars, ‘looks to me like your employers have been raping the males and beating the females again’, he finished before roughly laughing out loud at his own throw away remark.
‘SSStupid Argon you wish to make joke or do buisssnessesss’, complained the reptile puffing itself up - too very little actual effect - and tapping on the cages bars with a dark wooden staff that it seemed to think gave it an extra air of grand importance.
‘I wantsss to make profitssss not lossesssss’, mocked Jon with a poor lisp.
‘Sssssssss’, hissed the Teladi in anger, ‘I have other cussstomer ssshow ressspect.’
‘If you have other customers for these wretches I’m a three eyed Paranid’, said Jon.
‘Would at leassst explain bad mannersss’, said the Teladi with a little shuffle sideways and a slight bob of its head as if it half expected to be avoiding a clout.
‘Hah’, said Jon laughing and moving forward to support the green skin with a hand on its back bending down slightly to whisper in the creatures ear, ‘nothing like a bit of humour to help break the ice.’
‘Icesss… what icesss’, said the Teladi shivering at the Argon’s contact while looking about in puzzlement, ‘and why break… you Argon all mad want, not want, sssslaves?’ returned the Seller shuffling away from Jon again irritably, ‘and don’t touch Teladi or Teladi call for SSSplit Guards - in fact’, it said collecting itself, ‘sspeak plain or leave.’
‘Want - but - at - reduced - price!’ said Jon emphasising each word as if addressing a hard of hearing and exceptionally dim witted child.
‘Reduced price!’ blinked the bulging eyed Teladi stepping back still further as if it had been threatened with a very large gun, ‘Goodsss fine SSSplitsss expect no lesssss than ssstandard profitsss or sssskin thisss Teladi and put poor sservantsss head on pole as example to otherssss!’
‘I bet’, said Amon without sympathy entering the conversation for the first time.
Jon just gave his underling on this mission a withering look which said butt out!
Amon shrugged, what did it matter, he just wanted to get the deal done and be gone. It wasn’t their credits after all, of course Jon must be skimming. The Wolf leader was just happy to be dealing with a Teladi rather than a Split and hoped to get off this alien Pirate base before that particular situation in any way changed. Where the Teladi cajoled the Split would without doubt threaten and then worse still follow through.
The fact that losing your temper and murdering your customers was bad for business was probably why the Split Pirates at this location had decided to employ this Teladi in the first instance (well employ was surely the wrong word) Amon suspected the reptile was as much a slave as the unfortunate battered Argons inside the cages it was itself selling. It was bad news for Argons that the Split thought they made especially good working slaves well when the other options were the Boron, Teladi or Paranid this was hardly surprising.
Nearly all the front end staff in the guest wings on the pirate base were slaves and none of these were Split as far as he could tell. Apparently when the Split here deigned to interact with non Split visitors it was usually a brief and painful encounter that terminated in such cages as these, or the biological material recycling vats even further below - more often the latter than the former given the Splits infamous lack of restraint and general aggressive nature.
‘Listen friend a little discount is in order if I purchase all your goods’, noted Jon, ‘I will after all be taking the bad with the good.’
‘All’, repeated the Teladi, ‘All isss different’, somehow the creature managed to grin even broader than before and look as if it had never been discomforted.
That commenced the haggling in earnest. Ignoring the process Amon went over to look in at the - very mixed - grubby shackled and chained merchandise (it was best to think of them that way as mere cargo in transit). Jorac had been against slavery too, maybe that was why the Devil had so roundly hated the Split. Well, thought Amon, these Argons were already doomed his own small part in their fate was incidental maybe even providential. At least these captives would get transported planet side now. It might be safer for a slave on a planet compared to the uses they might get put to in deep space, or was he just fooling himself?
Fay shook her head after reading the text on her pad, it was the fekkin AFC 4 Tribunal Judicial Complaints System. It looked like Anna and Garrin would have to stay on AFC 4 for a while just to make answer to various individual complaints including assault by a fekkin dangerous puppet! Requests had already been made for the pair to be taken into Navy custody until they returned to the forge or at the least for The Grim Reaper to be locked down as a potential flight hazard (the latter Fay had decided she would agree to do, after all Garrin didn‘t seem in too much of a hurry to ship off anyway).
Without doubt it would all be settled with fines and apologies but it certainly prevented Anna being whisked away to The Fortress for a full and proper wide debrief on the Hive access Core project (The Commander in Chief would really like to know if their was any sensible scientific way to track down and eliminate that missing creature - if it was truly missing). Apart from such worries Fay couldn’t help but think that she had been outmanoeuvred by the scientist that Anna knew exactly what she was doing when she stirred up that affray. It made Fay wonder about other possibilities. At one point she had even feared that Anna might have possibly stolen or hidden the hive queen away right from under her nose. Still that was just ridiculous - they had the weird entities skin after all - especially when you considered the degree of surveillance and the rigours of that period of bulkhead lockdown.
Beyond Fays end of operation paranoia if the Station Runner was to be let more or less off a tight leash - even with the incentive hot in her veins - Fay knew some manpower would have to be wasted to at least keep a very close watch on the RJL Administrator. It looked like the Commander in Chief would have to sacrifice Suewyn fully to that cause. Damn she would miss that very capable Personal Assistant - even with her others - although the original promise made to Anna had been of a reasonably long term attachment Fay had really expected to be in a position were she would have been freely able to default upon the deal. Yet Anna was right about one thing RJL would be an asset to both the LoD and the Navy providing a seemingly non aligned way to move personnel and material safely around right out in the open - yet unseen and quickly too.
Fay found it annoying why did she feel like somehow she had lost when in fact beyond the unlikely (useful) acquisition of the spy tech she had gained almost everything she wanted. It was a bad sign, thought Fay, the onset of a degree of dangerous rigidity in her personality - that unhappiness - just because plans didn’t play out exactly as one had at one point expected. Very stupid, the Commander in Chief counselled inwardly, the worst traps were in fact the ones you built around yourself! Faith had been smarter than that in the old days! Thinking of other lives brought her back to the issue of Kerry and Tur Ryn. Was it possible that Tebin was right and she should try and make a truce with the Devil? Was this private war another symptom of her inflexibility and inner turmoil, after all what good had come of it? In many ways the High Arch Fallen Angel was potentially stronger than ever.
Fays earpiece beeped a coded alarm. It was that time again. Taking a deep breath Fay straightened herself up brushed herself down and initiated a GTD to the medical bay to sit and talk for a while to the unresponsive Febr. The Argon mind was a strange machine Febr’s stranger than most - especially now - but from the earliest kept records people in comas and other similar states have responded to spoken words from friends and family. It was a small hope but Fay also found comfort in it too, ‘So Old Goat’, Fay said, ‘can you believe it… your Assassin of Hearts and the rugged Security Commander of AFC 4 are going to be married right here on The Lost For Words no long engagement for that pair…’ she began. Febr didn’t even twitch an eyelash.
Garrin hoisted the carbine and squeezed off five shots at the target on the range. The Courier had been given the invitation by one of his possibly ex RJL bodyguards the Black Dog Chin.
‘Not bad’, said Chin looking at the cluster through a detached sight, ‘I think everyone who becomes associated with our Fay should get to know how to use a fair assortment of weapons - just in case of odd eventualities.’
‘I heard Carl had Anna come down here earlier’, said Garrin.
‘That he did’, replied Chin adding nothing more to the statement.
‘I’ve never before carried anything larger than a hand gun on my boat’, noted Garrin wondering if it was time to upgrade his rather limited armoury.
‘Space is not as safe as it used to be’, noted Chin, ‘I’ve heard of a lot more boarding actions. I blame this increase on some of the new hacking software and the availability of Goner Transport Devices. Before Pirates used to shoot you up to try and make you bail now some are remotely deactivating shields and Goner Transporting over. It makes a lot of sense if they subdue a ship that way they can get a prize more or less intact, more profitssss as the Teladi say.’
‘That’s a pretty scary tactic’, admitted Garrin.
‘Well it’s not too common yet but it is on the increase especially in Paranid and Split sectors’, noted Chin, ‘not sure if it’s the war or something else, but there seems to be an alarming amount of innovation in tactics and equipment lately.’
‘Looks like RJL definitely came along at the right time. I’ll have to get Anna to put something about this into our ongoing advertising campaign’, said Garrin.
‘I imagine you might want to think about putting a few armed guards on those Liners too’, noted Chin.
‘I believe Rav is on top of that one’, said the Courier.
‘That doesn’t surprise me. I wonder will the lads still be assigned to your outfit. I don’t suppose you have heard anything?’ asked Chin.
‘Sorry I’ve heard nothing yet, but I’m the silent partner in this business’, explained G.
‘May I’, asked Chin reaching for the carbine.
‘Of course’, said G grinning.
Chin turned away made a hidden adjustment then handed it back, ‘Try that then tell me what I did’, said Chin.
Garrin aimed the gun and squeezed off a single round the weapon kicked at his shoulder and the shot went a bit wide, ‘You dialled it up’, said G.
‘Spot on it makes a fair difference as you can see, even worse in zero gravity. That’s half the reason for integrated weapon systems good suits will counter thrust to try and keep you steady. If your caught without this option dial down but change to HE or HEAP rounds but that’s another game altogether. Low velocity especially against moving targets requires predictive targeting - something you know all about as a pilot’, said Chin.
‘I suppose you would have to change magazines to change load outs’, mused G.
‘Some people mix and count but that’s a bit dangerous and imprecise I wouldn’t recommend it for a novice. Otherwise your correct change magazine or get one of the new Smart Magazines these are expensive, bulky and occasionally jam but allow switching usually between three options at the flick of a switch’, noted Chin.
‘Never heard of that’, said Garrin.
‘It’s pretty new mostly only used by special forces and mercenaries’, explained Chin, ‘can I borrow your Pad for a moment?’ he asked.
‘Sure’, said G first making the gun safe then handing over his computer pad.
Chin crouched down set it on the ground pulled out his own extended the cord and made a direct line link before downloading something, ‘That’s a name and address of a friend of mine the sealed file is an introduction. This Guy can get you - any - gear you might need G. Listen if you do go to this Argo don’t tell anyone else he doesn’t like to advertise let’s say this Argon offers a very exclusive service. The guy isn’t cheap but he can also arrange all the right permits too - all above board utterly reliable and civil!’ finished Chin, unhooking the pad putting his own away and handing G’s back.
‘Thanks’, said G feeling both a little elated at the prospect and concerned.
‘OK ever use one of these?’ asked the Dog unhooking a sniper rifle from its temporary wall housing. Reaching down Chin operated the range control making the tunnel shimmer ripple and elongate away into the distance.
‘That’s a cool use of compression’, noted G.
‘Nothing but the best on the Lost For Words’, replied Chin.
Rud hadn’t really known what to expect but he certainly hadn’t imagined this. Well it wasn’t in any way like his dream of being free and farming on a proper planet colony, but it was almost possible to pretend that the well hidden LoD agricultural project known as The Farm was not lit by electric lights attached to a high rocky sky deep in the hollowed out heart of an asteroid floating somewhere in the depths of space (having been blindfolded when he arrived Rud had no idea exactly where the Fortress lay and found he wasn’t even that curious).
All the Ghost (as they liked to tease him) could do was dream to himself. When Ruds eyes were looking down, his hands grubbing in the surprisingly rich soil, seeing to the vegetables or the salads or when he walked amongst the small orchard of wondrous fruit trees (that had quickly become his favourites) then he could embrace momentary self delusions that this was in fact somewhere less artificial and much more vital. As cemeteries went it wasn’t too grim a place, but Rud still suspected that the guard had been right nonetheless he had been well and truly buried. Mine is a strange death, thought Rud, but he also had to admit it had also been an odd life. Fay had obviously read his file and in her own strange way been almost sympathetic in her final treatment.
Few onboard The Fortress of the Damned had access or knew about this place. To be told of the farms existence was considered something of a rather special privilege. Laughably Rud was considered blessed by his new work colleagues most of which were to Rud’s estimations - a little crazy - as well as being retired fighters of some antiquity who had earned their working rest here the hard way. Elsewhere on the Fortress he had been told more common and familiar space station hydroponics and vats produced Rud imagined less spectacular results, although the Dead Traitor had heard somewhere else again hid some actual livestock. So far the only animals he had personally encountered where the carefully tended bees from the hives, but it helped explain the source of the regular arrival of some rather smelly natural fertiliser.
Rud had been apprenticed off to Hawk although the grizzled veteran made an unusual mentor. For a start Hawk spoke little about his past or anything else for that matter but had an easy way with deep companionable silences. Rud learned simply by trailing after and assisting were he saw a need or by watching and following suit. Nobody the Ghost learned rushed on the farm - everything was done at a stately pace but with great care and precision. Since the farm workers had their own little row of cubicle accommodations and what they called - outdoor communal spaces - these retired LoD acted almost how Rud might imagine a tiny monastic order might operate. The Farm even produced its own rather special beverages in the form of various fruit and yes vegetable wines and a remarkably potent mead. Being deceased was to have its compensations.
X3 Fan Fiction by Paranoid66
Chapter 78 - Some Diabolical Beginnings
Tur Ryn - the Devil - the Arch High Fallen Angel recently liked to sit in a particular comfortable chair. The furniture was installed in front of a massive plastic glass construction in his stations brig amusingly the Devil named this water retaining prison his aquarium. Once settled and cosy like an old Argon on some back to basics primitive colony resting by an open fireside Tur felt warmed by the view. Taking a peculiar delight in the prisoners he referred to as his pets. It was a regular necessary ritual to his mind once his captives were installed, but the Devil also found it quite soothing so much so that it was far from a chore - more of a newfound (hobby / entertainment) for the infernal one. In fact he often settled with a flask of warm tea.
Even before the arrival of the Boron Tur had learned to enjoy watching the non sentient fish. At first his new naked blue tentacle sporting guests had railed against their confinement. The aquatic aliens desperately assaulting the almost unbreakable transparent barrier and making what Tur could only assume were rude gestures with their body parts - not to mention squirting a prodigious amount of ink as cover - a few stalwart rebels still misbehaved in all these banal ways on a regular basis, but the powerful filters and scrubbers the Devil had purposely installed had been designed to quickly remove such impediments to his placid but nonetheless torturous voyeurism.
Other individuals tended to jet away at his approach hiding behind or among the lush common brown seaweed or the rocks Tur had so kindly placed until their ever curious tormentor departed. Somehow that was even more musing to the Arch villain. It was interesting to note from transcripts of monitored conversations why they hid some refused to put on a show for their captor, others were truly embarrassed to be placed on display like living ornaments or just felt unsurprisingly uncomfortable and uneasy under the hard alien scrutiny of their prison warden. A few floaters however glided forth to stare back with the Boron equivalent of dumb insolence or to Tur's great joy a very impotent malice.
Almost all his guests at one time or another tried in vain to communicate asking why their captor was doing this, pleading or demanding to be released. A few made promises of ransoms others laughably tried threats warning that the Argon Pirate would come to a bad end at the hands of the Kingdoms powerful(?) navy. In answer to all these reactions Tur paid little heed as if he heard and understood nothing. The Devil just smiled and watched, watched and smiled occasionally sipping his tea or tilting his cup as if making a non alcoholic toast. Meanwhile (whether Tur was present or absent) his cameras and microphones recorded and his team reviewed and analysed each aquarium residents every word and interaction in the end the scheme was if anything over extravagant.
Despite the plan being over the top many of the recordings themselves became quite fascinating to Tur - even when entirely irrelevant to his need. It would appear sentient creatures really did make the best pets - at least in the short term. Passive resistance was however inevitable and a few either losing hope or rightly believing the Pirate needed them alive for some nefarious and unpleasant end started to deliberately starve themselves as a means of reasserting some measure of control over their horrid zoo like existence. Still by then it hardly mattered - it didn’t take long for the Devil to identify those that would serve him best for both of his purposes. The first candidates for the most diabolical plan being the easiest to find. All Tur Ryn needed for that one was some strong resilient young Boron flesh.
The Fallen Angels darkest design was an insane inspiration that was originally going to be his scheme of last resort but Tur found he couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that: He himself would curse himself and yet probably still be bendable to his own vile purpose (once the idea had coalesced the Devil just couldn’t let it go) the whole sinister twisted plot became enthralling carrying something of the imagined thrill that in the most imaginative and compelling tall tales belonged to the mad scientist or the most fell of evil geniuses! The very idea that while playing the Devil here he would be doing something - perhaps unique - as well as shattering any number of moral taboos was just too difficult for the Demi-Argon as he now classified himself to resist. After his mental predecessors Wyrm Slaying it just seemed so right even if only the Pirate Lord himself would ever know the whole facts. Somehow the privacy of the endeavour only made it all the more deliciously wicked. Tur doubted Faith would ever consider doing such an outrageous and atrocious thing: only he was capable of such utter callous depravity - so be it!
Therefore when everything was in order the Devil made ready by leaving the more traditional plan and the other Boron to his current favourite Fallen Angel ‘Jess’ telling no one of his actual intensions (after all no one else really understood the entirety of his true fuller nature). Tur then had his first test subjects netted separated put into stasis - packaged, and delivered for transit. Happy with his progress Tur relayed some general instructions (to cover most potentialities) until his return and with great gusto and a small party of underlings to see him off the Lord of the Free Fallen Angels boarded the prepped jump capable Falcon Hauler, and exited Purgatory into the very familiar slightly blood tinged space of Priests Pity at last alone - not counting his cargo.
His current ship ‘The Hound of the Hunt’ though nothing special was loaded to the max with stolen energy cells and would enable Tur to make multiple jumps to his final destination. The Devil never went straight to any of his Buried Hoards. It felt good to be back in the wide dark even if this - somewhat uninspired - Teladi ship was hardly one of his favourites. The Hound being chosen largely because it was a lot less conspicuous than a Pirate Nova Raider, or his newest favourite toy a legitimately bought Paranid m3+ medusa.
‘Dog a little suitable music for the trip - Carl Orff Carmina Burana - I think’, said Tur to the ships computer.
‘Music initiated’, said Dog.
‘Excellent - the pathetic Goners cultural researches had their uses - that certainly hit’s the fiendish spot’, now where shall we go first thought Tur, linking across from the Jump Drive command menu into the universe map, why not a short one to keep it random Split Fire South Gate, perfect!
‘Jump drive charging ten percent, twenty percent…’ commenced Dog.
That too was welcome music to his ears. This was living - to go and do as you pleased (once before his first reincarnation the awakening on Aladna Hill and Kerry - such pleasures - freely taken would have been enough, but not anymore!)
With a flare Tur fell away once more into both spiralling light and deep darkness.
Elsewhere within the Split Sector of Rhonkar’s Clouds deep in a less than brilliantly hidden Pirate Base.
‘What a sorry looking bunch’, said Jon with exaggerated feeling.
‘Goodsss are fine not sssick’, hissed the Split Pirates Slave Agent a smiling pompous little Teladi in a fancy black robe covered in spiralling green glowing embroidery. Jon had noticed before how Teladi when you found yourself in the unfortunate position of being their sole customer liked to smile at you a lot. This smiling usually occurring just before they took a big bite out of your credit balance utilising their wide mouthful of very even and abnormally sparkling (against the deep green of their skin) teeth.
‘I don’t know’ , said Jon peering between the bars, ‘looks to me like your employers have been raping the males and beating the females again’, he finished before roughly laughing out loud at his own throw away remark.
‘SSStupid Argon you wish to make joke or do buisssnessesss’, complained the reptile puffing itself up - too very little actual effect - and tapping on the cages bars with a dark wooden staff that it seemed to think gave it an extra air of grand importance.
‘I wantsss to make profitssss not lossesssss’, mocked Jon with a poor lisp.
‘Sssssssss’, hissed the Teladi in anger, ‘I have other cussstomer ssshow ressspect.’
‘If you have other customers for these wretches I’m a three eyed Paranid’, said Jon.
‘Would at leassst explain bad mannersss’, said the Teladi with a little shuffle sideways and a slight bob of its head as if it half expected to be avoiding a clout.
‘Hah’, said Jon laughing and moving forward to support the green skin with a hand on its back bending down slightly to whisper in the creatures ear, ‘nothing like a bit of humour to help break the ice.’
‘Icesss… what icesss’, said the Teladi shivering at the Argon’s contact while looking about in puzzlement, ‘and why break… you Argon all mad want, not want, sssslaves?’ returned the Seller shuffling away from Jon again irritably, ‘and don’t touch Teladi or Teladi call for SSSplit Guards - in fact’, it said collecting itself, ‘sspeak plain or leave.’
‘Want - but - at - reduced - price!’ said Jon emphasising each word as if addressing a hard of hearing and exceptionally dim witted child.
‘Reduced price!’ blinked the bulging eyed Teladi stepping back still further as if it had been threatened with a very large gun, ‘Goodsss fine SSSplitsss expect no lesssss than ssstandard profitsss or sssskin thisss Teladi and put poor sservantsss head on pole as example to otherssss!’
‘I bet’, said Amon without sympathy entering the conversation for the first time.
Jon just gave his underling on this mission a withering look which said butt out!
Amon shrugged, what did it matter, he just wanted to get the deal done and be gone. It wasn’t their credits after all, of course Jon must be skimming. The Wolf leader was just happy to be dealing with a Teladi rather than a Split and hoped to get off this alien Pirate base before that particular situation in any way changed. Where the Teladi cajoled the Split would without doubt threaten and then worse still follow through.
The fact that losing your temper and murdering your customers was bad for business was probably why the Split Pirates at this location had decided to employ this Teladi in the first instance (well employ was surely the wrong word) Amon suspected the reptile was as much a slave as the unfortunate battered Argons inside the cages it was itself selling. It was bad news for Argons that the Split thought they made especially good working slaves well when the other options were the Boron, Teladi or Paranid this was hardly surprising.
Nearly all the front end staff in the guest wings on the pirate base were slaves and none of these were Split as far as he could tell. Apparently when the Split here deigned to interact with non Split visitors it was usually a brief and painful encounter that terminated in such cages as these, or the biological material recycling vats even further below - more often the latter than the former given the Splits infamous lack of restraint and general aggressive nature.
‘Listen friend a little discount is in order if I purchase all your goods’, noted Jon, ‘I will after all be taking the bad with the good.’
‘All’, repeated the Teladi, ‘All isss different’, somehow the creature managed to grin even broader than before and look as if it had never been discomforted.
That commenced the haggling in earnest. Ignoring the process Amon went over to look in at the - very mixed - grubby shackled and chained merchandise (it was best to think of them that way as mere cargo in transit). Jorac had been against slavery too, maybe that was why the Devil had so roundly hated the Split. Well, thought Amon, these Argons were already doomed his own small part in their fate was incidental maybe even providential. At least these captives would get transported planet side now. It might be safer for a slave on a planet compared to the uses they might get put to in deep space, or was he just fooling himself?
Fay shook her head after reading the text on her pad, it was the fekkin AFC 4 Tribunal Judicial Complaints System. It looked like Anna and Garrin would have to stay on AFC 4 for a while just to make answer to various individual complaints including assault by a fekkin dangerous puppet! Requests had already been made for the pair to be taken into Navy custody until they returned to the forge or at the least for The Grim Reaper to be locked down as a potential flight hazard (the latter Fay had decided she would agree to do, after all Garrin didn‘t seem in too much of a hurry to ship off anyway).
Without doubt it would all be settled with fines and apologies but it certainly prevented Anna being whisked away to The Fortress for a full and proper wide debrief on the Hive access Core project (The Commander in Chief would really like to know if their was any sensible scientific way to track down and eliminate that missing creature - if it was truly missing). Apart from such worries Fay couldn’t help but think that she had been outmanoeuvred by the scientist that Anna knew exactly what she was doing when she stirred up that affray. It made Fay wonder about other possibilities. At one point she had even feared that Anna might have possibly stolen or hidden the hive queen away right from under her nose. Still that was just ridiculous - they had the weird entities skin after all - especially when you considered the degree of surveillance and the rigours of that period of bulkhead lockdown.
Beyond Fays end of operation paranoia if the Station Runner was to be let more or less off a tight leash - even with the incentive hot in her veins - Fay knew some manpower would have to be wasted to at least keep a very close watch on the RJL Administrator. It looked like the Commander in Chief would have to sacrifice Suewyn fully to that cause. Damn she would miss that very capable Personal Assistant - even with her others - although the original promise made to Anna had been of a reasonably long term attachment Fay had really expected to be in a position were she would have been freely able to default upon the deal. Yet Anna was right about one thing RJL would be an asset to both the LoD and the Navy providing a seemingly non aligned way to move personnel and material safely around right out in the open - yet unseen and quickly too.
Fay found it annoying why did she feel like somehow she had lost when in fact beyond the unlikely (useful) acquisition of the spy tech she had gained almost everything she wanted. It was a bad sign, thought Fay, the onset of a degree of dangerous rigidity in her personality - that unhappiness - just because plans didn’t play out exactly as one had at one point expected. Very stupid, the Commander in Chief counselled inwardly, the worst traps were in fact the ones you built around yourself! Faith had been smarter than that in the old days! Thinking of other lives brought her back to the issue of Kerry and Tur Ryn. Was it possible that Tebin was right and she should try and make a truce with the Devil? Was this private war another symptom of her inflexibility and inner turmoil, after all what good had come of it? In many ways the High Arch Fallen Angel was potentially stronger than ever.
Fays earpiece beeped a coded alarm. It was that time again. Taking a deep breath Fay straightened herself up brushed herself down and initiated a GTD to the medical bay to sit and talk for a while to the unresponsive Febr. The Argon mind was a strange machine Febr’s stranger than most - especially now - but from the earliest kept records people in comas and other similar states have responded to spoken words from friends and family. It was a small hope but Fay also found comfort in it too, ‘So Old Goat’, Fay said, ‘can you believe it… your Assassin of Hearts and the rugged Security Commander of AFC 4 are going to be married right here on The Lost For Words no long engagement for that pair…’ she began. Febr didn’t even twitch an eyelash.
Garrin hoisted the carbine and squeezed off five shots at the target on the range. The Courier had been given the invitation by one of his possibly ex RJL bodyguards the Black Dog Chin.
‘Not bad’, said Chin looking at the cluster through a detached sight, ‘I think everyone who becomes associated with our Fay should get to know how to use a fair assortment of weapons - just in case of odd eventualities.’
‘I heard Carl had Anna come down here earlier’, said Garrin.
‘That he did’, replied Chin adding nothing more to the statement.
‘I’ve never before carried anything larger than a hand gun on my boat’, noted Garrin wondering if it was time to upgrade his rather limited armoury.
‘Space is not as safe as it used to be’, noted Chin, ‘I’ve heard of a lot more boarding actions. I blame this increase on some of the new hacking software and the availability of Goner Transport Devices. Before Pirates used to shoot you up to try and make you bail now some are remotely deactivating shields and Goner Transporting over. It makes a lot of sense if they subdue a ship that way they can get a prize more or less intact, more profitssss as the Teladi say.’
‘That’s a pretty scary tactic’, admitted Garrin.
‘Well it’s not too common yet but it is on the increase especially in Paranid and Split sectors’, noted Chin, ‘not sure if it’s the war or something else, but there seems to be an alarming amount of innovation in tactics and equipment lately.’
‘Looks like RJL definitely came along at the right time. I’ll have to get Anna to put something about this into our ongoing advertising campaign’, said Garrin.
‘I imagine you might want to think about putting a few armed guards on those Liners too’, noted Chin.
‘I believe Rav is on top of that one’, said the Courier.
‘That doesn’t surprise me. I wonder will the lads still be assigned to your outfit. I don’t suppose you have heard anything?’ asked Chin.
‘Sorry I’ve heard nothing yet, but I’m the silent partner in this business’, explained G.
‘May I’, asked Chin reaching for the carbine.
‘Of course’, said G grinning.
Chin turned away made a hidden adjustment then handed it back, ‘Try that then tell me what I did’, said Chin.
Garrin aimed the gun and squeezed off a single round the weapon kicked at his shoulder and the shot went a bit wide, ‘You dialled it up’, said G.
‘Spot on it makes a fair difference as you can see, even worse in zero gravity. That’s half the reason for integrated weapon systems good suits will counter thrust to try and keep you steady. If your caught without this option dial down but change to HE or HEAP rounds but that’s another game altogether. Low velocity especially against moving targets requires predictive targeting - something you know all about as a pilot’, said Chin.
‘I suppose you would have to change magazines to change load outs’, mused G.
‘Some people mix and count but that’s a bit dangerous and imprecise I wouldn’t recommend it for a novice. Otherwise your correct change magazine or get one of the new Smart Magazines these are expensive, bulky and occasionally jam but allow switching usually between three options at the flick of a switch’, noted Chin.
‘Never heard of that’, said Garrin.
‘It’s pretty new mostly only used by special forces and mercenaries’, explained Chin, ‘can I borrow your Pad for a moment?’ he asked.
‘Sure’, said G first making the gun safe then handing over his computer pad.
Chin crouched down set it on the ground pulled out his own extended the cord and made a direct line link before downloading something, ‘That’s a name and address of a friend of mine the sealed file is an introduction. This Guy can get you - any - gear you might need G. Listen if you do go to this Argo don’t tell anyone else he doesn’t like to advertise let’s say this Argon offers a very exclusive service. The guy isn’t cheap but he can also arrange all the right permits too - all above board utterly reliable and civil!’ finished Chin, unhooking the pad putting his own away and handing G’s back.
‘Thanks’, said G feeling both a little elated at the prospect and concerned.
‘OK ever use one of these?’ asked the Dog unhooking a sniper rifle from its temporary wall housing. Reaching down Chin operated the range control making the tunnel shimmer ripple and elongate away into the distance.
‘That’s a cool use of compression’, noted G.
‘Nothing but the best on the Lost For Words’, replied Chin.
Rud hadn’t really known what to expect but he certainly hadn’t imagined this. Well it wasn’t in any way like his dream of being free and farming on a proper planet colony, but it was almost possible to pretend that the well hidden LoD agricultural project known as The Farm was not lit by electric lights attached to a high rocky sky deep in the hollowed out heart of an asteroid floating somewhere in the depths of space (having been blindfolded when he arrived Rud had no idea exactly where the Fortress lay and found he wasn’t even that curious).
All the Ghost (as they liked to tease him) could do was dream to himself. When Ruds eyes were looking down, his hands grubbing in the surprisingly rich soil, seeing to the vegetables or the salads or when he walked amongst the small orchard of wondrous fruit trees (that had quickly become his favourites) then he could embrace momentary self delusions that this was in fact somewhere less artificial and much more vital. As cemeteries went it wasn’t too grim a place, but Rud still suspected that the guard had been right nonetheless he had been well and truly buried. Mine is a strange death, thought Rud, but he also had to admit it had also been an odd life. Fay had obviously read his file and in her own strange way been almost sympathetic in her final treatment.
Few onboard The Fortress of the Damned had access or knew about this place. To be told of the farms existence was considered something of a rather special privilege. Laughably Rud was considered blessed by his new work colleagues most of which were to Rud’s estimations - a little crazy - as well as being retired fighters of some antiquity who had earned their working rest here the hard way. Elsewhere on the Fortress he had been told more common and familiar space station hydroponics and vats produced Rud imagined less spectacular results, although the Dead Traitor had heard somewhere else again hid some actual livestock. So far the only animals he had personally encountered where the carefully tended bees from the hives, but it helped explain the source of the regular arrival of some rather smelly natural fertiliser.
Rud had been apprenticed off to Hawk although the grizzled veteran made an unusual mentor. For a start Hawk spoke little about his past or anything else for that matter but had an easy way with deep companionable silences. Rud learned simply by trailing after and assisting were he saw a need or by watching and following suit. Nobody the Ghost learned rushed on the farm - everything was done at a stately pace but with great care and precision. Since the farm workers had their own little row of cubicle accommodations and what they called - outdoor communal spaces - these retired LoD acted almost how Rud might imagine a tiny monastic order might operate. The Farm even produced its own rather special beverages in the form of various fruit and yes vegetable wines and a remarkably potent mead. Being deceased was to have its compensations.
Last edited by Paranoid66 on Mon, 19. Nov 07, 16:40, edited 1 time in total.