[STORY] Best Served Cold (Complete with Epilogue)

[gsheriston]

Thanks for your comments, Trigger - though I think if you search more you'll find better.

Have yet to read Terraformer Dreams

And there's one example. I have one piece of advice - Do it! Do it now! Just - make sure you allocate an evening or two... You won't regret it. OK, maybe two pieces of advice

Almost too sad to read. Almost.

I'd say - "Blame the new Battlestar Galactica" for the general tone, I've just finished watching the final season. Or perhaps see "Revenge of the Sith", for another example of someone doing the wrong things for initially good reasons. Paved with good intentions and all that...

I wish I could tell you it'll get more cheerful - but since I'm playing the game as it stands, there could be rash, even disastrous decisions around the corner. And of course there are a couple of things left that might trip poor Scott up again. His increasing reliance on Spacefuel being one of them, his abillity to just lose it, shoot people down and then regret it being another. Anger, regret, mood-enhancing-inhibition-lowering chemicals and live weapons is a fairly unpleasant mix. And there are some other sectors to visit that could well open some barely-healing recent wounds.

Sarma's horrific tale was at first only a justification for one of the derelict ships - By the time it was done I realised it could later become an important plot element, and that I perhaps have to think up stories for some of the others... I do have ideas for two of them, and while one isn't exactly nice it's nothing like Sarma's. The other is actually quite positive. We'll see, if I get there

Trying to figure out the detailed mechanics of the Toucan being there gave me the 'distress beacon' idea, and the automatic flight plan logging happened after a throwaway line describing Scott's use of the system himself. I'm pretty much making it up as I go along, trying to see the pitfalls before I land in them - so if inconsistencies creep in, that's why.

I've never done this 'creative writing' stuff before - it's a huge amount of fun... Now I understand why writers sometimes say it's the best job in the world. Usually it's only the ones with best-sellers, though!

[collins50]

Thanks for the story, its is sad but life can deal you a sh&^y hand,
I hope this one turns out better, let him kill all of the pirates he finds, they pick threr destiny.

[gsheriston]

Thanks for the story, its is sad but life can deal you a sh&^y hand,
I hope this one turns out better, let him kill all of the pirates he finds, they pick threr destiny.

You're welcome, and I agree with life dealing dud hands- but sometimes the only difference between a dud hand and the winning hand is how it's played. Hopefully Scott will learn how to bluff... Interesting that you mention pirates choosing their own destiny, considering this next part!


Best Served Cold
Part Nine - Seven Stages

It’s three whole wozuras since I arrived on-station. The first couple of tazuras were spent mostly in the bar and oblivion, the third was split between the bar and the medical suite- where I spent the rest of the three wozuras. The Argon doctor told me I’m suffering from nervous exhaustion, and alcohol poisoning. He also referred me to a clinical Psychiatrist. The Boron Psychiatrist told me I’m suffering from clinical depression, grief at my bereavement, self-doubt, and most of all I’m conflicted by my killing of the bailed-out Pirate in Ore Belt. It’s left me borderline bipolar, subject to massive and violent mood-swings- the results of which, if left unchecked, could send me into a spiral. His example was quite simple – what if I find myself in the same situation, and anger (or spacefuel) makes me do it again before my rational self can stop me? Suddenly, not only would I be regretting two deaths, I’d also scared about losing control – which only makes it more likely, as I’d get wound up watching for it and fearing it, and as a result seeing it in everything I did. And all this while doubting my own nature as a decent, honest person, and still grieving over my family’s loss. It would be a mess. He recognises the spacefuel as a coping mechanism, but suggests I’m at a high risk of alcoholism.

I kept waiting for them to tell me something I don’t know.

Dr. Kramer kept me in to flush out my system. Susu Na tried to help me through the conflict, but I keep coming back to the same, simple, inescapable fact. I killed him in cold blood, when I know I shouldn’t have. Not only does it mortify me, it would have appalled my family. However, somehow I’ll have to learn to live with it, because if I can’t- then I’ll be following Sarma. Susu Na told me so in pretty much those terms, and was fairly blunt about it. Calming Boron voice or not, it’s always going to be a shock learning that you’re on suicide-watch with roughly a 60% probability of an attempt in the next mazura. That rises to 90%, if I can’t keep myself off the spacefuel apparently. Though, under the influence of ‘fuel, the chances of a successful attempt drop from 80% to 65% because I’m more likely to mess it up. Comforting, huh? Trouble is, in a hostile environment, all it takes is to open the canopy on the Harrier and it’s all over. It could be accomplished without a second’s thought in a moment of desperation. I could go park in Brennan’s Triumph, and someone would do the deed for me.

I almost wish he hadn’t said anything, because now I keep thinking of ways it could be done. And, after almost three wozuras in here, I’ve not had a lot else to do. At least I’ve managed to get the Toucan renamed and officially transferred – and on a whim I’ve registered the Harrier as the Nonny Mouse, though I suspect I’ll probably refer to her just as the Mouse. The good news is that I haven’t touched a drop of fuel for well over two wozuras and I don’t feel too bad. My system is much cleaner I’m told, and medically I’d have been free to go after two wozuras. Only, Susu Na thought it was still too risky. So, every day, we met and talked about how I’m feeling. We discussed alternative actions that I could have taken, what I could do in the same situation, we talked about how to manage anger and deal with grief. He told me that actually, I’m going pretty much according to plan – but very, very quickly. Perhaps too quickly, which is contributing to the jump-gate accident I’ve become. I’ve been through shock, just leaving Brennan’s Triumph and running for the Distillery – and again when I came back to my senses. I seem to have skipped denial altogether, things like going back to Brennan’s Triumph and trying to scan for space-suits or listen for survivors, checking the Pirate base in case they’d been captured, all those crazy notions. Susu Na thinks it’s because I actually saw the explosions, and I’ve just processed it as ‘absolutely no futzing way anything survived’, although it’s equally likely that I experienced denial while under Loli Pa’s care, couldn’t actually do anything about it and now just can’t remember. Likewise for the ‘bargaining’ stage, where I should have been trying to sacrifice myself to get them back somehow– but maybe that’s what I was trying to do when I took those first shots on the Mouse and all the other Pirates (and Xenon) I fought. Guilt, anger and depression have been pretty blended and I’ve felt them all over the past mazura.

Susu Na says that I could experience any or all of them again, at any time. Even after I’ve gained an acceptance of what’s happened to me and to my family, things could tip me over the edge again – but every time, it won’t be as bad as the last, it will be easier to recover, and it will take more to trigger it again. Ultimately though, there’s little anyone can do for me. Susu Na just wanted to keep me here another wozura while I stabilised a bit. In the meantime, I’d had Sarma’s Peace running energy cells from Queen’s Space to nearby sectors – so I’d at least kept pace with my medical bills which were getting to be cause for depression in themselves. My cynical side tells me that while I stay here, they have a license to drain as much money from me as possible – and only they can tell me I can leave. Sweet deal.

Of course, I could walk out at any time. I know. But, on this occasion, I think staying there was actually helping me. I do feel less frenetic. I’ve learned a little about Boron cocktails and which not to mix together. I had a major breakthrough when Susu Na pointed out that every Pirate I’d killed had had the chance to stop fighting and run for a station, but didn’t – and that those who had run had (bar one) been allowed to do so. I did still have my lines, and the consequences of crossing them were now apparent to me – that made it less likely that I would do so in the future. Also, with the two in Antigone Memorial, I had undeniably caused the arrest of one of them. Provided I remembered that, and always gave them a chance to surrender, I should be OK.

Everything seemed to fall into place, in that one session. It was like a Conductor had walked in to take control of the orchestra in my head- the deafening cacophony of many instruments making random noise suddenly resolved into harmony. I slumped on my couch, and cried – relief, rather than sadness, for a change. I’d done a terrible, awful thing. I hated myself for it. But- there was nothing I could do about it now, and tearing myself apart over it could not undo it. All I could do was resolve never to do that thing again. I knew, deep in my heart, that I would have to kill again. I would start fights with Pirates. I’d vowed vengeance, and I couldn’t truly find peace until I’d carried it out- it would nag at me until it drove me back towards madness. But always, if they tried to run with a fast ship, or if they left their ship, I would have to let them go. If they chose to keep fighting until the bitter end – well, that was their choice and one they didn’t have to make.

So now, more than a mazura after my family’s murder and close to a mazura after seeing Sarma’s message, I’m back in the Mouse and firing up the engines. The stay in the Trading Station’s medical centre has meant that despite all the trading I’d done I’d gained virtually nothing. But, for the first time since I left Brennan’s Triumph, I didn’t want a drink. And while I still loathed what I’d done in Ore Belt, I could almost look myself in a mirror again. But I still needed a bigger ship...

[The Zig]

Hey,

I really like the explanation for the abandoned ship. That's some great building around the game. I always just assumed they'de been kidnapped by aliens or something boring like that! (Maybe that suspcious flying saucer that's always drifting around the X-Universe in X2/X3) But you build in a good story for this one.

Have to admit, the psych ward I did not see coming. But it certainly makes our main character a bit less likely to find a short-cut flying into that pirate base with a cargo hold full of hornets... so that's good!

Good stuff!

[jannix]

@gsheriston: Really love your story so far. I gotta say though, sometimes I wish you were playing X3:TC for the material. I remember all too painfully, how hard it was for a poor trader to find some side jobs. So I crack up every time you say "everyone seems perfectly happy right where they are"

[gsheriston]

@gsheriston: Really love your story so far. I gotta say though, sometimes I wish you were playing X3:TC for the material. I remember all too painfully, how hard it was for a poor trader to find some side jobs. So I crack up every time you say "everyone seems perfectly happy right where they are"

Thanks, Jannix! As you'll see shortly, you're not the only one frustrated by it- Scott doesn't like it either

Best Served Cold
Part Ten - Alternative Futures

I’m back in the spacelanes again, and it feels good. I’ve been moving small goods and the occasional person for a wozura and I seem to be OK. I still hurt, but I’m learning to cope. And it seems Sarma’s wish has been granted to a certain extent as Sarma’s Peace is starting to tick over nicely shuttling energy cells around. I, however, still have my biggest practical problem still to overcome. Nobody likes me. I can’t buy lots of things, though at the moment my modest credit balance means this isn’t too restrictive yet. So, the most important thing I can do is try and improve my reputation. And we all know what that means, don’t we?

Taxi!

And, as usual, I’ve had a run of a couple of tazuras where nobody in Rolk’s Drift wants to go anywhere. However – seems some people need parcels shipping, so while Sarma’s Peace is delivering cells, I’m running bio-organisms. And, finally, someone needs to go to a different station. Only, he’s being tracked by the Xenon. How do these people get themselves into this kind of mess? And why do they always want me to be the one to dig them out? Seems this one’s got himself in a little deeper than the last, as they’ve sent about four N-class and a pair of Ms to pick him (or in this case me) off. Well, the Mouse is more than up to the challenge and so am I. Mostly because she’s fast enough to just slide on across the sector leaving all the red blips in her wake until docking starts – at which point things start to get a little hairy, because she’s never going to be well-shielded. We’re just about docked when the first shots arrive, and are safe by the second burst. My passenger and his briefcase make a sharp exit and run into the main embarkation terminal while I have a quick scan of the (worryingly but predictably) quiet bulletin board. After all, the guy who’s being chased isn’t on my ship any more, so the Xenon (being machines and really smart they’ve probably embedded some form of tracking device in the tech he’s stolen) should be able to tell, yes?

Clearly not, no.

On exit, I’m hit by another burst of IRE fire. So much for artificial intelligence. Look, he got off, OK? There’s nothing here for you... They are most insistent, so I’m left with no alternative. The three alpha-PAC’s I’ve managed to source (including the one from Sarma’s Peace, swapping it with one of my beta-IREs) quickly strip the shields and hull. As it comes apart, a cargo-canister breaks free of the wreckage but I’ll deal with that later. Two more Ns are gone, and it seems I’m the only one in the galaxy capable of using a strafe-drive in combat which is weird. I’d have thought at least the Xenon should be capable of using all the tools they build into the ship! I see the sector patrol has hold of one of the M-class, so I don’t need to worry about it but the other has noticed I’m a free target again and is lining up for a pass. Again, the Mouse dances away from the stream of PAC fire which would have obliterated us both and the M runs into almost a full energy bank of the stuff. Shields on the M are almost finished, and a second run starts chewing into the hull. A missile warning makes me jump almost straight into the M’s firing line but thankfully it’s a dumb-fire and shoots past on a fast-track to nowhere. Finally the M disintegrates, and it too leaves a bonus cargo crate. The other M is still tangled up with the sector patrol but is running out of time fast so I boost the engines and see if I can steal the kill. It’s not exactly sporting, but I need all the reputation I can get – so to gain honour, I have to do something dishonourable... Strange thing, reputation. It’s just about in firing range when an Octopus lands a hit on something important. The whole engine section explodes, leaving me momentarily blinded before the cockpit darkening picks it up. This one doesn’t leave any floating bounty, so I turn tail and go pick up the other two crates. It’s only a Mosquito and a Dragonfly, but they’ll all count when I can get to an equipment dock. I head for the Trading Station for a bite to eat, it’s been a long mozura and this nazura won’t be much better. I’m still recovering, after all.

Sitting in an Argon eatery munching on a Big Cahoona Burger, my mind starts wandering again, and something hits me. You know what I miss most about being in space? Weather. The wonderful sensation of waking up early in the mozura, peeking out through the blinds and seeing a beautiful tazura ahead of you, warm sunshine, a few clouds in the sky, a light breeze – all the optimism that brings. Though, perhaps it might be a little muted these tazuras, because on those occasions in the past I’d have tried to spend some time outside with Cora and the kids and of course that opportunity has been taken from me forever. Suddenly, a different kind of weather seems more appropriate; dark, heavy, oppressive clouds and driving rain – just a hint of thunder and ozone in the air, waiting for the lightning strike. I guess that’s an artefact of my bipolar disorder, hopefully Susu Na has managed to head that off before it became deep-seated. Certainly between Susu Na and Dr. Kramer, it looks like they have me off the ‘fuel- at least so far. I finish my Stott-spiced Kharve and head back to the Mouse for a nazura’s running around checking bulletin boards. I really wish there was just one, for the whole sector – it would save me so much time, and individuals could reach a much wider audience of pilots. How often have I flown past a station where someone’s hoping for a pilot to drop in who is going to my destination? I could easily take a detour if I knew there was a fare there, but I’m not going to do it just on the off-chance... But for now, all the stations are being insular and keeping their business very much internal so I guess I just have to do things the hard way.

Actually, there’s so little happening here, I’m going next door to Kingdom End. I always liked it in there, and it’s one of the reasons why we’d chosen Three Worlds as our intended home – the chance to go to the Boron homeworld whenever we got (or made) some free time. There’s an unusual peace in the sector, one that keeps drawing me back like an old favourite song. It’s very restful, and I think I could use some of that. The pace of life seems to back off a little, like the place is permanently on vacation- unusual for a home sector. It’s so different from somewhere like Siezewell, where everything is stepped-up a notch instead; or the rigid controls applied in Family Pride. Don’t talk to me about Paranid Prime... I’ll say a prayer as easily as the next, but to me the Paranid take it a little too far. At least when I offer a prayer I don’t expect the recipient to be in a palace planet-side. It just strikes me as odd that they see their Emperor as a God too – in my eyes a God shouldn’t be mortal like the rest of us. But then, I only have the two eyes, maybe that third gives them a different perspective... Don’t get me wrong, I have tremendous respect for the Paranid people, they are unparalleled scientists and engineers, and the ones I dealt with in the past were always honourable and fair with what they believe was an ‘inferior being’ – I just don’t share their beliefs, that’s all.

Arriving in Kingdom End, I remember why I love the place and detest it in equal measure. The relaxed pace is actually dictated... You just cannot fly quickly in a sector so densely populated with chunks of rock. The autopilot gives me a rollercoaster ride to the shipyard, but at least we got there in one piece – I can’t guarantee I’d have managed that with manual controls. I’d really love to clear this sector of all this floating crud and I’m amazed nobody has done it already. After all, those rocks contain ore and silicon – good money to be made, if you don’t mind living in a space-suit. You have to, it’s too easy to pick up an odd crack in the hull from careless or unlucky piloting- or most often, choosing to try and scoop up a chunk of rock just slightly too large for the collector. I’ve worked a mining ship in my long past – one of my first spaceborne jobs in fact, taking silicon out of Herron’s Nebula for an Argon firm. They paid well, but it was hard work. Not physically, just the concentration it demanded to fly a Mercury in and around an asteroid field while scooping up bits of rapidly-cooling rock and dodging your colleagues’ mining lasers. As soon as I could afford my own trading ship, I was gone and never looked back. Some people are born to it, I guess – I just wasn’t one of those.

Cruising (rather than blasting) around the sector finally nets me a delivery job – a shipment of cartography chips from the Quantum Tube fab, in the far North of the sector, to a power plant in Antigone Memorial. I look at the requirements and see I can make it, then accept the job without thinking. Only when the Mouse’s computer says “Entering system – Three Worlds” do I realise I’ve made a mistake.

Thankfully, the ship is on autopilot and can continue without me – because right now, I’m not really here. I’m out there, in a cabin on the Mammoth. I’m watching the last few solar panels being dropped into position on the single collector disc. Cora’s standing beside me, both her arms around my waist and her head on my shoulder wearing a dreamy smile. Bethany is in one corner of the observation deck, practicing suiting up to the point where now she’s getting in and out of the suit in just a few mizuras. All so she can be ready for a spacewalk in a couple of tazuras time. Steve is playing with Alice behind us – they’ve been bored since the construction drones finished putting the main structure together.

Cora speaks. “Steve? Look out of that window over there... See anything you recognise?” He takes his little sister with him and runs to the other side of the observation deck. Alice falls, skins her knee and starts to cry a little – Cora scoops our daughter up and lifts Alice onto her hip. “What’s the ship heading towards us?” “Umm... Is that Daddy’s ship?”

He’s right, the Mercury is on its way over from the equipment dock on autopilot, with our first shipment of crystals. We should be there when it arrives. I pull out the commpad from my pocket and get hold of Captain Joyi. “Captain? I’d like to ask a favour, if I may... I’d like to have my family transfer to the station together, and the M5 isn’t big enough. Do you have a ship, M4 would be fine, that I could use to take us all there?”
The captain’s face, usually a little pompous, seems to soften a little. “Well... Not that you could use, no- but I would be honoured to fly you there myself. Meet me on the hangar deck in- twenty mizuras?”
“We will be there, thank you Captain. I appreciate this. If ever you’re short of cells in the sector, wave me. I’ll give you a one-third discount on up to two thousand cells, for a jazura.” The Mercury will beat us there - so I cheat, and order it to hold station.

......

The metallic CLANG echoed through the Nova’s hull as the docking clamp captured the ship. Captain Joyi steps out of the Pilot’s seat and turns to face me as I speak. “Thank you, Captain –I already have Crystal Chaser packed with the rest of our belongings and prepped to join me here, so we won’t need transport back.” We clasp hands and shake. “Thank you for getting us here so quickly and safely, and please pass on my thanks to your crew for their courtesy and hospitality. Your Mammoth is a fine ship, and run tightly, as you advertise! Safe travels, Captain Joyi.” His smile is genuine, pride in his ship etched in every line. “I’ll be sure to pass that on, she is a good ship. To use a Teladi saying, ‘Great profit to you’. Farewell, Mr. Danna. And don’t forget that discount, I’m sure I’ll take advantage of it soon...” He seats himself and keys the internal communication system, even though they could hear him if he raised his voice... One final piece of formality from the Captain of the Mammoth. “Family Danna – prepare for debarkation, airlocks are ready.”

Cora and our children were clustered eagerly by the Nova’s airlock. “Well ... Are we all ready? Shall we go and see our new home?” Alice and Steven are bouncing already. Even Beth looks excited. The airlock door opens and we all squeeze inside. The inner door closes, and the outer one opens into a large dark area...

......

“Entering system – Power Circle.” My face is wet again, and I’m shaking. Susu Na did say I could hit anything, at any time, triggered by anything or nothing. I should have expected some sort of reaction to arriving in Three Worlds, I guess; perhaps it was the fact I hadn’t that made it so shocking. Maybe if I’d thought about it, I could have been better prepared- or maybe I’d have just been more upset. At least now, it’s over. I think. And if Joyi had had a Nova aboard, all that my imagination had just conjured up might still have happened. Even if he couldn’t have flown in combat, I could have... I would have. Only, I’d been on the other side of the Argon sectors. I’m angry again, now, the shaking isn’t from sobbing any more. It’s rage. It feels like I’ve had my future taken away again, and I’m starting to wonder just how many more times this can happen to me before something goes pop in my head.

“Successfully docked” An automated message tells me the station has received the chips, and a less-automated one from the QTF in Kingdom End tells me I’ve been a good little pilot and will be on their mailing list forever whenever they need some petty errand running. Whatever. At least they paid me, and I earned the bonus. I’m not sure the cost was worth it, though.

By this time, I feel like a wreck again. Drained, but pumped. Empty, but raging. I haul myself out of the Mouse on autopilot myself, and head into the station. I’m not running as such, just walking with purpose - but people are dodging out of my way as if I’ll just keep going straight through them; truth is, I’m not even seeing them. I can’t see it, but my eyes are fixed, glazed and unblinking. I’m driven, compelled. Fifteen mizuras after docking, and I’m throwing an empty spacefuel glass at the wall in the station’s bar- it’s my third glass. The station’s PA broadcasts my loss of control. “Attention, Security – we have a One. Four. Nine. on level Seven. in the Bar.” Seventeen mizuras after docking, I’m being bundled out of the bar by station security and heading for a mandatory 24-stazura spell in the detention block. I’m trying to sleep, but it keeps being blocked – either by dreams of life on the station, or by watching the Mammoth explode into a billion glittering shards in Brennan’s Triumph taking my life with it. It’s going to be a long tazura.

[gsheriston]

First House is punchier and a bit more plot driven, but it was fun to write.

I just finished 'First House' - loved that one too... Nice to see the Shades making a reappearance, as well - the 'moving mines' made me think of 'Galaxy Quest', which is no bad thing I did wonder if Beta squadron were out somehow pushing the mines closer to the fleet, but you didn't need that!

Thanks for your (and indeed everybody's!) continued support on Best Served Cold, having an audience is a good spur to keep writing- even when there's not much actually going on in-game. It's not like NUKLEAR-SLUG's stories, or Fendalis' pure description of a game, I intend to use game events for inspiration rather than as the backbone of the story.

Oh, and a quick note on time, while I'm writing... I've just in this last part introduced two new time units, following on from a very old post in the X-Universe. Mozura, equivalent to 'morning' and nazura, equivalent to 'afternoon' - based again on the German 'Morgen' and 'Nachmittag'. Logically, there's also going to be an 'Abzura', evening, based on 'abend' Sadly, 'nacht' doesn't really fit unless I make it 'naczura' or 'nachzura'

[Captain Chris sTc]

Awesome.
he starts recovering and is straight of the rails again. love it.

[gsheriston]

Awesome.
he starts recovering and is straight of the rails again. love it.

Hehe... It's been almost a month since he saw Sarma's message; three weeks in rehab and another out in space living clean and working like a good boy - so not quite straight off the rails! But it's a shame he hasn't been able to resist the 'fuel the first time his resolve is really tested. I think a couple of Boron are going to be quite disappointed. And now I have to think about how he's going to spend that spell in the detention block with no access to ship systems... So, it's perfect for a period of reflection and flashbacks or forward planning. Good opportunity for rounding out his character a little more, or bringing in more back-story. He has a lot of time to think, and no distractions. Any ideas gratefully received! But - PM them to me, if anyone has any. Let's not spoil it for any other readers Can't promise to use any or all of the ideas, and I do have a couple already; but if anything fires an inspiration and gets used, I'll make sure you're credited...

[gsheriston]

Best Served Cold
Part Eleven - A Hot-Head Cooling Heels

Twenty-four stazuras. One Tazura. It doesn’t sound like much, does it? Well, I can tell you – it’s enough. The first four I spent in a mixture of regret, shame, rage, regret, bitter self-recrimination, regret, disappointment, fear and more regret. I thought of Susu Na’s likely reaction; the sigh, the weary tilt of his head and the large, liquid eyes. “Oh, Scott Danna. I had such high hopes that we had helped you. All your hard work undone... You must be more careful, or that sad story you told me of the lady from the Toucan will become your own.” Up to 90% again, I guess... I wonder if Station Security knew about that little fact? Have I been on suicide watch all tazura? Not that they’d have had anything to worry about, there’s nothing in here that would help. And besides, I’ve had a lot of time to do nothing but think. Oh, sure, I ranted, raved, cried, screamed, begged the Gods for a way to bring them back – it’s amazing what goes through your head when you’re not really in it yourself. But once I’d calmed down and metabolised the ‘fuel there’s really nothing to do but think in places like this. Think, and sleep.

Surprising fact for you – an Argon detention cell is more comfortable than 80% of the station sleep cells I’ve been allocated in my time. Though – if you want real luxury, try some of the Teladi stations in Siezewell. Just be sure you’re very, very solvent before you go. Goner Temple cells are sparse, but the services on the station are excellent. Split stations are much the same, if you can call a military wake-up call at 06:00 local time every mozura ‘excellent service’. Of course, I’ve only ever seen the ‘inferior race’ quarters on Paranid stations – but they’re generally OK. The 20% of stations more comfortable than this Argon detention cell are mostly Boron. Again, simple, sparse – but these are people who live in water. They know about fluids, and a Boron bed has some very thick fluids in it – variable density, believe it or not. You can sink into it, fairly quickly as standard, but almost imperceptibly on its harder settings. It moulds to you, maintains a temperature that you set... wonderful. No wonder Cora purred when I suggested one to her.

It took me until the fifth stazura to get some semblance of sleep, tossing and turning, drifting in and out of consciousness with my mind wandering over old memories and mixing them in with hazy nonsense dreams and sharply imagined scenes.

“Mr Danna! Welcome back to Antigone Memorial, have you come to collect your recording?” Cora’s smile was just as beautiful as the sunrise I’d seen over the planet from orbit, and it warmed me much more. Or perhaps that was just my burning cheeks. By all that’s holy, this wasn’t the first time I’d asked a woman out- not even the tenth- but it sure felt like it... “Well... yes, and no. Yes, I’ve come to collect it of course, but... Um... I was wondering... Uh... Would you join me for a Kharve when your day here is finished?” The last words were all a rush, and how she made them out I’ll never know. But she did, and while she looked a little embarrassed herself, her smile never wavered. “That would be nice, thank you”
......

Looking up at the space where the Jumpdrive should be on Too Late, and realising I’d been robbed- not knowing how much damage had been done and getting into the ship fuming without doing a full set of checks, slamming the hatch down and bruising a finger on the access key pad while punching in numbers more literally than usual.

......

“Don’t you have anywhere else to go, Scott?” Cora’s eyes lit up as I walked towards the reception desk, and that smile was as warm as ever. She was running out of ways to tease me as I came through the door these days – I was visiting the centre every couple of wozuras, and every time we’d end up at a holovid, or a concert, or just walking in one of the planet’s parks. “We’ll have to get you a staff pass, if you carry on like this – is that what you’re looking for, a job?!” She laughed, and the trip I’d just made through The Hole melted away like it was jazuras ago. “Well, I do have friends in high places here... Hey Daniel – how’re you today?” Cora’s newest member of staff was an earnest young man, he had been at the centre for a couple of mazuras now and was well-used to my arrival. “Very well, thanks Mr. Danna." He turned to his boss, and smiled conspiratorially. "Go and play, I’ll cover for you here – you owe me one, Ms. Farli. And remember, don’t tell me anything about the holovid, I want to see it myself without spoilers!” Cora gushed some thanks as she rushed past him and into the office – barely a mizura later she was beside me, and I felt a warm hand take hold of mine as she led me out of the Centre- that was new! “Squiddy III – Titan Takedown” was a fine holovid – one of those ‘take your brains out and enjoy the pretty pictures’ shows, with a fair sprinkling of laughs at some of the scrapes McSquid got into and the flair with which he escaped them. Perfect for a fun evening, and great for light conversation afterwards. Cora could barely speak, she was laughing so much as she tried to relate her favourite moment... “And then I...<giggle> I implemented part 2 of the plan and <chuckle> I ranawaylikeagirl!” The last words dissolved into a helpless fit of giggles as she collapsed against me. As the giggles subsided, it left us both breathless and virtually nose to nose – the kiss was inevitable...

......

“Hold still, Beth – I know you’ve had tazuras of practice, you can do it with your eyes shut in under five mizuras, the thing is - this time we’ll be opening a door into vacuum. We do not take chances. If it helps, you’ll be checking my suit once I’m done with yours.” Beth whinged as I checked her suit out again – though she had misaligned a seal on her left wrist. Easy to do when you’re working with your ‘wrong’ hand, most people would get the right wrist seal wrong but my eldest daughter’s left-handed. Was left-handed. After that, everything checked out properly. “Into the airlock with you! You’re ready. It’s time.” We both stood in the station’s airlock, which was roomy enough to take the whole family. Cora was on monitoring duties for us. Beth and I indicated readiness, and Cora started the pump to remove air from the lock. Beth took about three seconds to notice that her suit had suddenly inflated, then quickly realised it’s because it’s airtight and pressurized. She’d never been airless before now. The door ahead slid open smoothly, and our magnetized boots kept us tethered – though I took no chances with either of us. We both had manoeuvring packs, and a good old-fashioned tether line. We shuffled slowly and carefully away from the airlock at the top of the station and looked down at the massive collector petal. “Go on then, Beth – start counting!”

The Discoverer arrived out of nowhere and stopped. It just sat facing us – watching us. The canopy is dark, I can't see inside. 16m. It closed a little, maybe 10m. There was a warning-shot, can’t have missed us by more than two. Beth hit her manoeuvring thrusters and lifted off the station’s hull, then backed away with her hands raised in surrender. I felt sick to my stomach, because I knew what was coming – I’d seen it from inside the ship... The four alpha-IREs strike her dead-centre and the suit simply evaporates...

If my dreams are going to be like that all the time, I may never sleep again. I awoke breathless, sobbing, sweating and with a raw throat. I know I screamed in the dream, I guess it wasn’t all in my head. There was a foul-smelling puddle on the floor, and the distinct aroma of ‘fuel almost set me retching again.

Sleep was banished for another couple of stazuras while my mind played more and harsher tricks on me – hearing Cora’s voice, the disappointment in it tearing me apart as she broke down saying she couldn’t stay with someone so bent on self-destruction and was taking our kids somewhere safe, somewhere away from me... Being back in Brennan’s Triumph and watching the explosion through Crystal Chaser’s darkened cockpit but seeing small dark specks in the brightness... Space-suits? Lining up for approach to the Pirate base’s docking bay with a hold full of hornets and a jury-rigged detonator in my hand. Lining up my sights on a Harrier, pulling the trigger, and hearing Steve scream “Daddy, STOP, it’s ME!”. Holding my arms out to Alice, only for her to run and hide behind Cora’s legs.

Finally I guess my subconscious got bored torturing me and stayed quiet – I think I actually slept soundly for maybe three stazuras. Long enough to leave me feeling groggy when I awoke, not long enough to feel refreshed. Tired, hung-over, mentally battered. I hurt, everywhere, but mostly in the soul and the heart. There’s a burning need to do something but of course in here I can’t do anything. So, I sat and I planned. I needed a bigger ship – and unless I was going to be very, very patient with Sarma’s Peace, the only way I was going to get it would be to take it away from somebody else. I’m sure that the Mouse is capable of picking off a lone M4 ship, all I have to do is find one and hope the Pilot can see sense. After that, well, we’ll see. If I can 'liberate' a ship, I’m sure it’ll be damaged. I’ll have to earn more to repair it, and arm it, shield it, then, once we’re both ready, we can go after something bigger. Pirates have been known to fly M3s, and I rather like the idea of firing Pirate guns from a Pirate ship at a Pirate station. All I have to do is keep myself alive and focussed, while I hunt down that elusive lone M4. By now I’m hearing groans of protest from my abused system – and right on cue, the Argon security forces bring me a meal. I even manage to keep it down, though it was a struggle. I think that’s how it’s going to be for me from now on – a constant battle. Me vs. The Booze, while I simultaneously fight Rage, Sadness, the Pirates and my own subconscious... all of whom are allowed as many in the ring as they like. Who’d take that bet? I’m not sure I would...

Sleep, when it comes, is deep – but at least it’s not plagued by nightmares. Station Security are surprised, they don’t usually have to wake people to throw them out. When I walk away and back to the Mouse, it’s with purpose. I know what I have to do, I even know where I’m going to try and do it. Rolk’s Fate, here we come...

[The Zig]

Still enjoying this a lot.
For some reason, the 2nd-last paragraph made me think of Moby Dick - the idea of someone battling for something they don't really understand any more, and being aware that they're their own worst enemy.

The difference is, in this the guy's battling his crazies to acheive revenge, wheras in Moby Dick the thirst for revenge IS the crazy.
If you haven't read Moby Dick you should give it a try, btw. It's long, rambling, and goes off on some seriously bizarre tangents, but it JUST manages to hold together a good story and has many moments of absolute brilliance.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to seeing how he gets on.

[gsheriston]

If you haven't read Moby Dick you should give it a try, btw. It's long, rambling, and goes off on some seriously bizarre tangents, but it JUST manages to hold together a good story and has many moments of absolute brilliance.

It's one of those books I always meant to get around to but haven't yet - I promise I'll make the effort In the meantime...



Best Served Cold
Part Twelve - New Hope?

Before the dawn of space travel, we used to look to the stars, and refer to them as the heavens. Now we know a lot more about what’s up here, where are we supposed to look? There’s no preferred direction in space, but if you ask any Argon to look to the heavens, wherever they are, they’ll tilt their head back. Makes no sense at all, but we all do it...

Wherever the heavens are, whoever’s running the ‘Kick Scott Danna As Hard And As Often As Possible’ department is away from their desk right now; so I’m going to grab that chance with both hands until someone manages to wrestle it away from me. Though going on current form, I’ll probably end up in a fight against myself again. Paying off the additional two tazuras’ docking fees gives me a few more stazuras on-station before I have to get going or pay up again. But, we’re not going to be here for long. Someone must have been listening, perhaps a new member of staff in the Kick Scott Danna department – because there’s not one but two people besides me with a powerful need to be in Rolk’s Fate. Well – one person, and another proffering a sealed crate of entertainment chips. Between them they’ll net me almost 10,000Cr and I could sure use that. Dan Gaffelt wants to be at the trading station, and the entertainment chips have to go to the chip plant. The irony does not escape me – and neither will the credits. After making sure Dan and the case are secured, we’re away. Dan’s not used to the speed, but loves it. He tells me he’s a planetary shuttle pilot. Fair’s fair, I probably couldn’t deal with the kind of descents he would barely blink at so who am I to be laughing at his reaction to the Mouse’s turn of speed? He’s certainly an affable guy, very easy to get along with. One of my more pleasant passengers and nowhere near as irritating as that lady back in Ringo Moon – the Joyi woman, Val. I almost refused her trip because of her surname... Even the trip through The Hole wasn’t so bad – mostly because I was having to reassure Dan that we were in no danger, everything was on the Gravidar and the ship was on autopilot. I chose not to mention my intention to have the whole autopilot system overhauled in the near future... In almost no time it seems, we’re captured by the docking clamps at the Trading Station and Dan’s on his way with a promise to look out for me when he needs to get back. I appreciate that, but to be honest with you all – I have little or no intention of visiting Antigone Memorial any time soon, unless forced there by circumstances. Not that I told Dan this, of course.

After getting the chips securely into the hands of the Morale officer on the Chip Plant, I’m almost at a loss. I’ve moved more e-cells in Sarma’s Peace than I think I would have done from our station, and she’s moving back towards the power plant in Queen’s Space right now. I push off from the station and just drift south for a while. Heading into the Ion Disruptor forge, there’s a message on the BBS asking for a fast ship – M5 class, to get to the Light Shield plant in 16 mizuras. Mizuras? Usually people want to go from here to there pretty much any time in the same tazura... What’s the rush with this guy? Uh- Lar? Doesn’t matter, really – I can make that with ten or more mizuras to spare, and it’s 260Cr with a promise of more if we make it. The race is on...

For the next couple of stazuras I’m bouncing all over the local area – Rolk’s Fate, Menelaus’ Frontier, Queen’s Space – I even catch a glimpse of Sarma’s Peace at one point, the first time I’ve actually seen her in a mazura! I hope she’s a happier ship now, even if she is permanently under autopilot. My Boron passenger is starting to make the timescales a little tighter, the longer we go on – and eventually he sets me a challenge I don’t feel quite so confident of meeting and I suggest he should find a different pilot. He seems quite happy to do so, though the chances of him finding one and still making that appointment in Ceo’s Buckzoid in four mizuras looks vanishingly slim to me. I could probably have done it in six, but that wasn’t good enough apparently. No loss to me, and I believe it’s done my reputation with the Boron a world of good. Certainly didn’t hurt my credit balance, I’ll tell you that. By chance, it was actually back in Rolk’s Fate when we parted – personally I think he needs a better travel agent or at least an optimised route. I digress, though. Leaving the Plankton Farm, I point the nose South again on a whim.

And they’re still on an extended lunch at the ‘Kick Scott Danna’ department. Because there, leaving the South Gate and marked as hostile, is a lone Buster...

Have you ever heard the phrase ‘red mist’? It’s also known as a Split Shift, if that’s more familiar. Basically, you lose all rational thought and become focussed on violence – well, that’s what Susu Na told me, anyway. I’ve felt it plenty in the past, and plenty more in the very recent past. So I recognise it when it arrives again. Susu Na’s words echo around the cockpit, it seems. “Control your anger, Scott Danna. Do not let it control you.” Strangely, it seems to work. Weapons are fully charged, and I’m closing at a frightening rate. Forgive me, Cora – I have to do this. Weapons free...

The first pass strips the Buster’s shield to nothing and knocks bits off the port wing. I take my finger off the trigger as the Teladi Pirate tells me I have no sense. We’re close enough that I can make a direct radio connection without having to use waved recordings.

“I have no sense? Who’s the one with no shields left? I’ve lost nothing, Teladi. You’re out-gunned and you’re out here alone. I’m faster, and I can pick you off any time I choose. Or, you can get out of the ship and float over to the IonD forge. I give you my word I’ll tell them you’re here.” The Teladi’s answer was swift, and arrived as a barrage of PAC fire. I’d carelessly allowed myself to drift into the Buster’s line of fire and she’d opened up on me. Cursing my own stupidity, I hit the strafe jets and danced away from certain destruction – then fired again myself, shredding the few meagre wisps of shielding the Buster had recovered, and knocking more chunks out of her hull.

“Sssstop! Trade ship for you ssstoping shooting!”

This was it! My big break had arrived, and at the first attempt? Must be some major departmental meeting going on at KSD. The Buster’s IFF transmitter changed to ‘neutral’ and the hatch flew open. There were flashes from inside – I presume my Teladi friend was making sure there wasn’t much left for me, but as the Mouse moved closer the lizard drifted off towards the Forge. True to my word, I patched through a message – straight to station security and the Boron Police forces. The Teladi will certainly have people watching for her imminent arrival... Now – to examine my new ship... It was claimed in seconds, and ordered to the Equipment Dock to await a more thorough investigation – ultimately I was going to have to take her to the shipyard on Argon Prime for a proper repair job, but to do that I’d need shields for her. As I watch over my new charge and shepherd her back to the Dock, I request info from her computer. Apparently she’ll reach 199m/s when fully repaired and tuned, and is capable of supporting compression up to 158 units of M-class cargo. She’ll mount six alpha-PACs and as a bonus I see she has three fighter drones on board too. And of course, she needs a name. I don’t have anywhere near enough to repair her fully yet – but maybe she could be useful before then. On arrival at the Dock, I’m in yet more luck. I’m starting to get suspicious, usually when things start going this well it’s a cue for a massive setback. But for now, I’ll settle with taking a passenger to Teladi Gain for 4000Cr – because I can be back here inside the stazura, I believe. In the meantime, Sarma’s Peace is still racking up trades but at a lower profit margin. I can see what I’m going to have to do, and I think I can pull it off – just have to be careful and lucky. For the first time in wozuras, that thought doesn't produce a wry smile.

Getting back to the Dock and examining the Buster, I can see that fortune has definitely smiled on me this tazura. There’s still something like 70% of the hull intact – she’ll fly without breaking apart as long as I’m careful. There’s nothing in the hold bar those three fighter drones, but plenty of scorch marks – maybe there were more but the pilot managed to get the rest to self-destruct before she left. I’ll never know, though – by now the Pirate will be in the hands of the Boron authorities. And, wonder of wonders, someone on this very dock wants to go to Argon Prime – and the Federal Argon Shipyard no less! I shake my head at the sudden shift in my luck, and hastily arrange a few changes... Both 1MJ shields go to the Buster, as does all the weaponry and equipment I can transfer. I’m taking a huge risk, flying her myself – but this way, I still only need one set of shields rather than two. And at least I can still fire the guns. Making sure Sarma’s Peace has a full load, I know I’m safe to spend whatever’s left. Yet another bonus – the XL power plant has hit critical oversupply and dropped prices to 12Cr/unit – so that’s a clear 7000 profit if I can move them on at the right price... There’s enough in the bank to finish upgrading the Buster’s engines but with her hull leaking and stressed in various areas it’s still going to be a slow trip. Now – who wanted to go to Argon Prime?

[collins50]

Good Job, I am enjoying your story, keep it up

[gsheriston]

Good Job, I am enjoying your story, keep it up

Glad to see you still here

Best Served Cold
Part Thirteen - Turning Point


Something has definitely changed. It’s not me – well, not that I’ve noticed. I still wake up every mozura feeling empty, and I still go to sleep at the end of each working tazura missing my wife and my kids. I still have this burning urge to go tearing down to Brennan’s Triumph and deliver unto the Pirate Base a wake-up call with PPCs, HEPTs, Hornets, knives, sharp sticks, bad language – anything that will do damage or ruin someone’s day. It will be done, I promise. I don’t know whether it’ll stop there and I’ll jump out, or whether I’ll go completely off-the-rails and just keep shooting anything that looks at me harshly until I get caught by something and I see Cora again in the ‘verse beyond. I suspect I’ll never know, until that tazura arrives. The explosion of the base is a definite goal - something I can plan for. The aftermath, ten sezuras afterwards – well, I just can’t see that far.

But right here and now, things feel different. I won’t claim that a weight has been lifted from me, far from it. But for the first time in wozuras, I actually feel optimistic. I can do this. I know I can fly, and it seems I’m no slouch in combat either. Gunboat diplomacy appears to be successful too, and I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about dancing away with the Teladi’s Buster. Presumably this is because I’ve rid the space-lanes of another Pirate by making her abandon ship then sending her into a Police cell while at the same time acquiring myself a handy M4 which will do no end of good for my combat survivability and increases my range of potential targets.

Well – it will, once bits stop falling off the hull and I’ve got two 5MJ shields instead of a pair of 1MJ. Still, she’s sound enough to get me and whatever-her-name-is in the back to the Federal Argon Shipyard in Argon Prime. She looks familiar, but it takes me almost half the trip to realise it’s because she’s wearing the same uniform as the sales girl that ripped me off with First Steps. Similar smile, too – so we’re OK if we go into combat. I’ll just get her to show that smile at the enemy, then I’ll shoot while they’re blinded. Being a good guy generally, I pass up the opportunity to throw her out of the hatch without a spacesuit. After all, I haven’t done that badly since, and First Steps did get me a couple of breaks. Plus one I’d love to be able to forget.

This is my favourite trip through The Hole – because it’s the shortest. Still a bit hair-raising when a Dolphin appears out of the mist from below us as we approach the South gate... The autopilots on both ships have done the necessary talking, though, and while we in the Buster get bounced around a little there’s no contact. On a whim, I call up e-cell prices in The Wall as we enter. After all, I was always thinking ‘empty heads have empty holds’. And whaddayaknow, 12Cr at the M plant. However, there’s a Demeter super-freighter on final approach and even if we’d been in the Mouse we couldn’t get there ahead of it. Again I watch an almost-full station drop to zero stock from half a sector away. No matter this time, there will be other opportunities. And this isn’t my main trading ship anyway. Sarma’s Peace is hard at work moving energy West and bringing BoFu back East. Pitching up at the Shipyard, I receive the credit transfer from the lady with the weapons-grade smile and check Sarma’s Peace is fully laden – she is. So now it’s time for a reinvestment of profits – repairing BlockBuster. It’s quite a shock to see the projected hull integrity leap all the way from 72% up to... 77%. Need. More. Cash.

It’s going to be a long wait for Sarma’s Peace to offload her cargo, pick up some more and get back to a power plant in Queen’s Space. But every time she loads up, I want to increase the hull on BlockBuster. So, while she’s shuttling it’s time for me to see if anyone needs delivery. Hopefully they’ll be a bit less manic than the Boron who had me chasing all over the place earlier. And they are, to such an extent that they can’t even be bothered to post on a bulletin board. I can only take a few mizuras of staring at the news-but-no-jobs laden BBS before I get an itchy sensation in the bank balance. I need money, and I’m not making any sitting here. So, BlockBuster gets a short tour of Argon Prime where I completely fail to find any paid work. By now, though, Sarma’s Peace is on her return trip weighed down with a small-ish cargo of Bofu so hopefully it won’t be long before I can cream off the profits again.

I know, I know. If I left those profits alone, I might be able to afford more Bofu for the return trip... But that’s not my plan, is it? My plan is to get out there and start encouraging career changes in Pirates.

It seems Beth still has the Gods smiling on me this tazura, or they’re too busy keeping Steve out of trouble to notice they’ve not done anything nasty to me recently – back on the Shipyard is someone who wants to go into Teladi space. I pass on BlockBuster’s location, and ten mizuras later there’s a dishevelled looking Argon man heading swiftly towards my docking bay.

“You Scott Danna?” He’s a little breathless, it sounds like he’s jogged from the main station spine and isn’t used to it. Just like I would sound, in fact. “That’s me, you must be Fil Gorna?” “Yessir.” “Well, get yourself aboard and your case stowed – we can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Once pilot, passenger and luggage are stowed – and there’s a lot more space aboard BlockBuster- we’re away. Headed for Ceo’s Buckzoid, a safe, simple trip that shouldn’t take too long at all. Fil seems a little nervous, maybe he wasn’t just breathless from jogging? “What is it, Mr. Gorna? You’re looking tense.” “Um... well, I was just thinking that this ship looks a little- uh – beat-up. Do you get into a lot of trouble? I’m trying to stay safe here.” “Don’t worry. I actually caused most of this damage myself – a little while ago this was a Pirate vessel, and I convinced the previous pilot to go straight. Or at least, straight to the Police. We’re armed, we’re shielded, and we’ve got most of the hull. I think we’ll be OK through Boron and one Teladi sector, don’t you?”

His short laugh is derisive. “One wozura ago I’d have thought exactly the same. Now, I’m heading for Ceo’s Buckzoid to make some contacts on the Space Equipment Dock ready for when my fighter’s available. I always used to fly a Demeter, ‘till some three-eyed Pirate son of a Paranid concubine told me I couldn’t. He offered me two choices – give up the ship or die in it. He explained his point with a Phased Shockwave Generator, and I could hear it twisting the ship apart. Really tore up the structure, you know? It had no strength left after that, I saw fracture readings coming from all over the hull so I just let him have it. I hope it collapses on him; he’d caused so much damage it wasn’t worth repairing, so I activated the salvage insurance and left him to the Demeter. Had to wave the Goners though, to get them to arrange a different ship. Going to take time, they said; but I’ll have a Nova any tazura now. And I’ve heard I can get me one of those PSGs in Teladi space. After that, I’m going looking for either a beat-up Demeter or a shiny Falcon Vanguard. When I find it, I’m going to shoot it into tiny bits. But there’s a lot to choose from around Siezewell, too. So why are you shooting Pirates? Something similar?”

I can’t do much more than grunt at first, but as we enter Rolk’s Fate I start to explain. By the end of it, Fil’s ready to join me. “When you’re ready to go to Brennan’s Triumph, get in touch. I want to be there and put one over on these lawless futzing scum. Seriously, if you want a Nova for backup I’m the guy. We’re fighting the same war.”

War? I guess it is.

Fil’s soon off the ship and I’m not sure yet what to do about his offer. Not that it matters right now because while I’ve upgraded in the ship department I’ve still got the same weapons and shields I had on the Mouse. There is one difference, though – now the four PACs are backed by M4-grade energy banks, so I should hear less of that ‘Attention – Energy low’ warning. It's a nice thought.

Leaving the Equipment Dock, there’s a red dot on the Gravidar. It’s M3 class, a Falcon. Not the Vanguard variant that Fil has his sights on – should I try it? If it hits me, I’m dead. No questions. But, I’m faster and more manoeuvrable, it’s just a matter of whether 4 alpha PACs can chew through the shield before it recharges. I guess if not, I can run away. Falcons aren’t noted for their blistering pace after all. Engage...

Good job the Falcon is a big ship – I’ve forgotten that BlockBuster doesn’t have any form of targeting software. But I’m getting better quickly. “Split now show you how battle fought!” I’ll give him his due – his reaction to losing half of his shield in an unprovoked attack is brave. But he can’t bring guns to bear on me because I’m sitting right behind his engines and pouring accelerated particles into them. “Give it up! You can’t hit me while I’m behind you, I can out-turn and out-run you. If you launch a missile, it’s more likely to kill you than me. Surrender, and I’ll promise you I’ll let you go.” It was more in hope than expectation - the Split dictionary does not contain the word 'surrender'. “Death in battle is my fate!”

So be it. I gave the Split his chance. The hull integrity of the Falcon drops rapidly once I have the shields down – so much so that the ship slows automatically and I almost run straight into the engine bay. I manage to veer away, and boost my speed to gain some distance. The Split tries to orient the nose on me, but isn’t fast enough- or more likely the Falcon isn't fast enough. The PACs tear holes in the Falcon and she breaks apart just behind the cockpit – the engines go up, and all that remains is one floating crate. So, what have we found?

“Unknown object”

Great, thanks. That’s really helpful. It could be anything. Is it legal? Only one way to find out, without a freight scanner... I lower the shields and drift towards it with the bay doors open. The autotractor kicks in, and the crate is safely aboard. Time to head back to the Equipment Dock to see what I’ve got. Once safely back on-station, I open the Trade console to see if anyone recognises it... There’s a little <thud> as my jaw hits the console. More than eighty THOUSAND credits?! Whatever it is, the legality of it is someone else’s problem now. BlockBuster is suddenly sporting best buy/sell software, explorer software, and – since the Teladi will sell just about anything to just about anyone – Fight 1 & 2 software. That feels better...

[Captain Chris sTc]

Has KSD been "reshuffled" as they appear to be very inefficient at the moment. The story's starting to look up. With more options for the story to spread. I like.

[The Zig]

Good to see him making some real progress here.
Though personally, I'd NEVER fly a buster with Disco shielding. One angry M5 would so violate him right now! And there'd be no way to run...

Looking forward to the next part.

[gsheriston]

Good to see him making some real progress here.
Though personally, I'd NEVER fly a buster with Disco shielding. One angry M5 would so violate him right now! And there'd be no way to run...

Looking forward to the next part.

Hehe... I only remembered that after I'd blown up the Falcon! Talk about overconfidence... But the approach worked, don't fire until I'm in position and he can't shoot back. And yes, I did almost hit the back of it as it slowed down

Next part is under-way already, but I'm quickly catching up to my game. Been writing more than playing, recently! Trouble is, fairly soon I'll be into the long drag of trying to make money to upgrade ships and things - not much of significance to tell, in game terms. So, I suspect the 'Kick Scott Danna' department may just have to come back into action. Am I being mean to him?

On a more serious note, I'd like to improve my writing style. Spent a lot of today trawling this forum looking for tips and reading links I've found on long-forgotten pages. If anyone has specific tips or suggestions on how/where I can improve, I'd love to hear them. I know we've got some talented people on here!

[gsheriston]

Best Served Cold
Part Fourteen - Trial by Combat

Being hounded by the Universe is a bit like banging your head repeatedly against a bulkhead. After a while you get used to it, and you only notice it when it stops... Now I’ve caught my breath after seeing that ‘unknown object’ increase my credit balance so much, it’s time to reinvest. The best buy/best sell software will make a difference to the trading efficiency of Sarma’s Peace, certainly. Previously I’ve just sent her station-to-station to try and find good deals; sometimes I’ve had to wait stazuras. Now I can send her to a sector and pick off the best one straight away. Well, there’s only one form of reinvestment I’m interested in and that’s fixing BlockBuster to full combat readiness. There’s a handy shipyard just a couple of sectors away at Siezewell, so that’s where we’re headed.

And on the whole it’s an uneventful trip – apart from a wave from Fil, who’s forwarded me his contact details and finished by telling me he was looking for a ride to Argon Prime where his Nova will be ready within the tazura. I waved back, saying I had business elsewhere so he shouldn’t wait for me if he got the chance to go- but I would swing by the Equipment Dock if I was headed that way later.

Brennan’s Triumph is personal. I’m not convinced I actually want anyone else along, but I make sure to keep his details where I can find them anyway. It’s always good to have someone you can call on.

‘Entering system – Siezewell’

Immediately on the gravidar I spot three red blips – M3 class, all of them. Two more Falcons, and a Nova. Three M3s? Confidence is one thing – that would be stupidity. On the other hand, the local Phoenix has taken an interest – so that will narrow the odds a lot – but I still only have 2MJ shielding, a fact that eluded me when I took on that first Falcon. The thought hit me in Profit Share, and made my blood run cold. I got away with it once, I’m not going to try it again. Besides, those Novas can mount HEPT in the rear turret. One kiss from that, and I’m history. Or maybe geography, being spread over the sector. Lining up on the Shipyard, I notice that one of the bad guys has gone – but there’s a crate floating in space. It’s another ‘Unknown Object’... Change of plan, I think. Docking aborted, and I’m heading swiftly (it’s a relative term, BlockBuster still feels a little flimsy and sick) for the crate whilst keeping one eye on the Gravidar so the big, bad Nova doesn’t creep up behind me. Crate secured, and now I’m high-tailing it back across the sector to the Equipment dock wringing my hands and bouncing up and down in the Pilot’s seat begging my girl to go faster. 5km range, and automatically I reach for the docking computer... Old habits die hard, it seems. I reached for where it was in the Mercury, and had completely forgotten that I don’t even have one on the Buster. It’s a strange sensation, because I’ve been flying without one for a couple of mazuras now. I know a lot has happened, so my brain will do strange things – it’s been through a lot, after all. But that was just plain weird. I’ll drop in on Susu Na soon, and see if it’s significant. But also, I have to go and pay the Paranid a visit. Have to clear and/or rebuild my name, and get hold of a docking computer. I’d forgotten how useful they were...

Well, whatever these ‘unknown objects’ are, there seems to be a market for them and a stable one at that. Another 80,000Cr will go a long way. Ohhh... I can’t give up that opportunity. 5MJ shields? I’ll take two... I could probably find them cheaper elsewhere, but these are here, and they’re here now. That’s worth the extra few thousand credits; it’s only one trip for Sarma’s Peace, I can live with that. Might not live without the shields... Another pair of alpha PACs? Um... No. First, I want the ship back up to speed – then we’ll see what’s left. I considered selling off the 1MJ shields, but instead I’ve decided to re-fit them to the Mouse. I might be keeping her around, the speed is incredibly useful sometimes. In the meantime, Sarma’s Peace has been steadily pulling in credits and with my increased balance she’s been more profitable on the ‘return’ runs than the ‘outbound’... But now she’s docked at the XL power plant in Queen’s Space and fully laden so I send her off to Kingdom End with a silent prayer that the autopilot is up to dodging all those rocks. By now I’m lined up on the shipyard again, and this time I let the docking complete. Shortly afterwards, I finally have a fully-repaired ex-Pirate Buster. She has full shielding (such as it is) and almost full guns, she’s got as much engine tuning as the experts can get out of her... It’s time for a real test, for her and for me. Can I fight this Buster? Let’s see... Where did that Falcon go?

There you are. And your Nova playmate is aaaaaall the way over by the South gate. Can’t save you now... With only 66% of maximum guns, BlockBuster is capable of spraying lots of fire without having to break off. The Falcon is taking plenty of incoming fire and it’s all hitting squarely thanks to the Fight Mk II software. Her shields are dropping fast. The Teladi pilot offers various threats that she can’t carry out, and each time I respond telling her to abandon ship. I’d offer to pay her, but until Sarma’s Peace docks again I’ve got barely 200Cr to my name. Despite repeated pleas to her, the Teladi Pirate decides to go out with her ship and the Falcon gives her a brief but highly visible memorial. Not only that, but she’s left another crate spinning slowly in the blackness.

“Unknown Object”

I raise my eyes, and offer Cora a silent prayer of thanks for almost quarter of a million credits that she's gifted me in the last few stazuras. The Gods are truly smiling on me this Tazura, and I intend to make full use of the opportunity. Stashing the incredibly valuable crate, I head straight back to the equipment dock and pick up the final pair of guns – and while I’m at it, the cargo bay compression field gets a lot stronger. Right. Six guns, 10MJ shielding, full hull integrity, Fight Mk II software. Time to go Nova hunting. Leaving the Equipment Dock, there’s no sign; last time I saw the Nova’s signature it was headed for the South gate, so that’s where I’m headed too. At 199m/s, at long last... It’s much slower than the Mouse, but then the Mouse wouldn’t have blown through two sets of Falcon shielding either, despite having the same weaponry. The Harrier Raider designers had fallen into an old trap – too much gun, not enough energy. She could throw a hell of a first punch, but couldn’t follow it up. The Buster on the other hand could throw that same punch and keep throwing it.

Seems the Nova has recognised me as a hostile. When it appears on my target monitor it’s a head-on shot with its engines aglow and showing a halo around the profile. It would be pretty, were it not trying to kill me.

Flashes in the distance, and green bolts of plasma hurtle my way. Strafe to my left, but it still almost grazes the shields. Pitch the nose, keep strafing, start firing. ‘Target is now in firing range’ No, really?! 1.2km. First hits start to land on the Nova, white particle streams dancing over her shields. She’s not reacting much, but trying to turn my way. Higher speed takes me in close, the barrel-roll leaves me pointing almost straight at her. Quick correction, and fire again. More hits. The Argon pilot screams defiance in a Northern Continent brogue- I tell him to give up his ship. A lapse of concentration, I turn the wrong way – and I’m in the firing arc of the turret. Cockpit flashes green as I race away from the Pirate, my shields drop alarmingly. Again. Again. My thoughts become flashes too. ‘Shields Critical.’ I can’t get out of the turret’s arc! Bits of hull go missing, the leading fin edge to my left blasted clean away. Damnit, I just had this girl rebuilt! Dropping speed throws off the turret’s aim for a sezura. Boost extension throws me back in the seat as we extend away from the Nova. Tooooo close.

Twisting wildly in space, I’m looking for approach vectors. The Nova’s launched more plasma and it’s bearing down on me. Strafe out of its path and empty the PACs directly into the Nova; a satisfying flash from the port engine! She’s not out of control, but she’s slowing a little. Ducking under the ship- the turret can’t reach me here! Can’t slow down in time. I’m back in its firing arc, but ready this time- I can evade the hail of hot plasma. Looping up, over and forward, roaring just metres from the cockpit almost drops me in front of the main guns but my PACs miss, as do his HEPTs. Hells, this one is tough. Underside is the key. Have to get below and stay there. Hand tense on the stick, knuckles white; other hand flying over the strafe jet controls. Can’t strafe and change speed at the same time – stupid, stupid controls. Decrease to just over the Nova’s speed. Approach from below and behind. Much safer here, PACs shred the last of the Nova’s shields and tear chunks from her hull. Metal blisters, bubbles, scorches and cracks. Abruptly she’s out of my sights, thrown into a spiral - all those shots landing in the same place, have I burned through to- and killed- the pilot? Taken out the controls? Doesn’t matter. Back in the sweet spot. White-hot particles sear the Nova again. Can’t raise the pilot, maybe comms are down – surely he’ll give up now?

No.

The Nova explodes as her internal reactor goes critical. Blinded and with blistering paintwork, flying through wreckage strikes sparks from shields; rapidly cooling Teladianium forms projectiles, and a larger piece of hull casing takes 2% off those shields too. But I’m still here, and so is BlockBuster. Mostly. Deep breath... Another. Long breath... My heart hammering in my chest starts to slow and the red mist starts to fade. Slow breath... My hand eases a little on the stick, but won’t let go completely. Other hand is shaking, but is working enough to set the autopilot. I’m exhausted, but I know it’s temporary. Breathe... That didn’t go well. Overconfident in myself and the ship, but at least I get a chance to learn from it. The Nova’s explosion is a blessing, really – looking at it, that spiral would have ended near the middle of the Mobile Drilling System factory. It would have been catastrophic for all involved. Don’t know where I’m docking. Just have to let the ship take control while I lose mine, then get out of the cockpit for a while. I close my eyes for a mizura or two while BlockBuster coasts us in to dock. When I open them again, we’re on the long approach to the Shipyard. Makes sense, it’s the first in the sector list.

Struggling out of the cockpit, I head straight for the sleep-cell I’ve been allocated and collapse on the bed. I close my eyes, but all I can see is my near-death experience playing over and over and over again. I’ve survived it, but only just. Once I’ve settled, maybe even slept for a short while – I lost track of time while I was watching the battle, don’t know if I drifted off – I’m back in the bar. On the table in front of me is an untouched space-fuel, sitting there mocking me. My hand shakes as I reach for it and pick it up. It gets half-way to my lips, then I put it back on the table. Again. That’s the third time I’ve put it down in two mizuras.

“Scott, what’s wrong with you?” Cora’s voice comes to me unbidden, like she’s answered the prayer I sent her earlier. “You don’t touch that stuff. Ever.” I feel a single large tear roll down the length of my nose and watch the ripples spread as it drips into the glass. I’m lost, as much on-the-rocks as the ‘fuel is. My voice is an inaudible whisper, but that’s OK – I’m not talking to anyone in the bar. “I wish you were here, love.” I pick the glass up for a fourth time, and again it moves towards my lips...

[gsheriston]

Best Served Cold
Part Fifteen - Conscious Decisions

...I savour the aroma of the space fuel; harsh, acrid and metallic - then hold my arm away from my body and tip the drink through the grating in the floor. The glass comes back to the table, and I push it roughly away from me – almost to the edge, but thankfully it doesn’t go over. My left hand covers my face, the elbow on the table keeping my head off it. “That’s better. You don’t need it”. Cora’s voice is so clear, I can almost smell her perfume – light, floral, just a hint of spice about it. I’d give anything, all the ships, any chance at revenge, the flying- anything just to bury my head in her shoulder again and let that scent fill my senses.

There’s a potentially crippling date coming up. Two mazuras from now will be Steve’s birthday – it would have been his ninth. I feel like I should go somewhere and do something significant to mark it, but there’s nowhere to go, and I think that might be important. Now I’m not so drained by the fight, I think it’s time I went back to see a Boron who’s helped me in the past. I have to talk to Susu Na.

The trip back to Menelaus’ Frontier is short, and uneventful. I’m not going back to Argon Prime, so I don’t stop at the Equipment Dock to pick up Fil. The Boron psychiatrist can’t see me this tazura, but will have a short window in two tazuras’ time. I fill that with a few short deliveries and the odd passenger transport, and all the while Sarma’s Peace is still raking in credits. Thankfully, the autopilot can cope with the length of her in Kingdom End – though given the way Mouse got bounced around, I’m not sure I’d want to be in it. I made enquiries about advanced autopilots – even one that used a strafe-drive would be an improvement – but it seems none are available. I can’t figure that out, the drive is on virtually every ship I’ve flown so why aren’t the onboard computers using it? I guess the Military have it but are keeping it to themselves, that would figure. If I can get back into the good graces of the Paranid, maybe they can help.

Finally, I can get to talk to Susu Na. The psychiatrist’s room is just as I remember it – clear and uncluttered everywhere, except the Boron’s desk; which looks like an explosion in a library. First thing I want to know is what happened in Siezewell with the Docking Computer – it’s relatively minor, but it’s bugging me. We’ll get to the important stuff soon.

“Ah, Scott Danna. This is a good sign! That an instinctive reaction from your previous happier life has returned to you is not a cause for concern, more for celebration. I believe it is your brain beginning to heal, it has been badly abused both by circumstances and by yourself. I trust you have refrained from further intake of Space Fuel?” I dropped my head into my hands, and he read my body language perfectly. His face clouds, and his voice lowers. He’s every bit as disappointed as I thought he would be. “I see. You remember what I told you about your consumption of alcohol, yes?” “I do, Doctor.” The psychiatrist looks a little uncomfortable, and I remember that the Boron don’t use honorific terms like ‘Doctor’ – it’s just an instinctive reaction with me. “I do remember, yes. I had another unfortunate lapse about a wozura ago, when I flew through Three Worlds – where we were supposed to make our home. I wasn’t prepared for it, and I lapsed badly. It cost me a tazura in a detention cell at Antigone Memorial. But there’s a little progress to report too; just a couple of tazuras ago I survived a difficult encounter with a Pirate Nova – I almost didn’t survive it. After that, I sat in the bar for four mizuras with a ‘fuel on the table in front of me. Every time I lifted it to take a sip, I put it down again untouched. The last time I picked it up, I poured it away. Is that important?”

“Well... Not really, no. It is encouraging, certainly – but that one incident does not mean you are free, any more than your lapse means you are condemned. Only when one or the other becomes the norm will we know how you are faring. Time grows short for us, Scott Danna. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?” I’m unsure of how to phrase it, so I just blunder in regardless. “In a couple of mazuras, it will be the anniversary of my son’s birth. I would like to commemorate it, but I don’t know how, where, or if I should. Do you have any advice? I’ll face the same again in another six mazuras, for my wife, then twice another mazura after that for my two daughters. I would like to be prepared, as much as I can be.” Susu Na’s eyes narrow slightly – after the wozuras I spent with him, I learned to interpret this as being deep in thought. After a mizura, he speaks again. “In all the time we spent together last time you were here, you never mentioned a memorial service for your family. Have you held one? A focus such as that can be a great step in the healing process. It is painful, but it also gives an opportunity to grieve. Many Argon and Boron clients have reported feeling better after a funeral service for loved ones.”

The thought had crossed my mind, several times. But – in order to hold a service, I would have preferred to have their remains so they could be interred in holy ground. I had left the scene of their murder very quickly, and I hadn’t been back. Perhaps I should? Could I go? What would I do if I couldn’t find anything? Heavens help me – what if I could? I must have looked horrified, and I know I was shaking. Susu Na’s voice took on that very soothing quality Boron voices can have. “It is not always necessary for the deceased to be physically present, when you remember them. Boron believe, as Argon do, that they are present anyway.” I don’t know how my psychiatrist knew what I was thinking, but I guess that’s Susu Na’s job in a way. “You should find somewhere special to all of you. Somewhere tranquil, significant, a place where you were all happy. A favoured space in a park you all enjoyed, a hill, a place where you had a wonderful vacation. This is where you should hold your service, and where you should go whenever you feel a need to go to them – on occasions such as their birth-tazuras, as you mention. For a while after that place is established, it would be normal for you to want to visit it each tazura – but you must take care that this does not become an extended period of time. It should be a port you return to, not a chain that keeps you there. I cannot tell you where that place is, but you will know. Now – I have other clients that I must see. I am sorry that I must end our discussion, this was the only time I had available. The Boron does sound genuinely regretful. I guess it’s clear to him there’s more I want to say – and as I stand up, I say it anyway. “I keep hearing my wife – should I be worried by this?” “No, it’s perfectly understandable. You are not hearing her, you are imagining what she would say about your situation based on your knowledge of her. Through jazuras of companionship, you have learned the sound of her voice very well and have a good understanding of how she would react to your current state. Therefore you can imagine quite convincingly her voice saying things you would expect her to say. If you begin to hear her say things you would not expect, perhaps then we should discuss it further. Good tazura to you, Scott Danna.”

Closing the door on Susu Na’s office, it all seemed to make sense. Again I had that sensation of a conductor organising the orchestra of my thoughts and bringing some order to the chaos. I realised that actually, I’d been putting off holding a funeral for them. Was I still trying to deny that they were gone? Perhaps the service should be my first priority. No. The second. First, I had to try and work out where to hold it, and that was going to be a difficult process.

By the time I’ve reached BlockBuster, though, I realise that actually- it’s pretty obvious. There’s a memorial garden at the BalaShandra hospital on Antigone Memorial, as there is at every planetside hospital throughout Argon space. The garden itself isn’t special to us, but the hospital is where all three of the kids were born and it’s where Cora and I were taken after the Skimmer accident that broke my leg and her collar-bone a couple of jazuras after we met. Cora lived in that area when I first knew her, and we had made our home near there too. That’s where it should be. And, listening to Susu Na, it should be fairly soon- so I guess I will be going back to Antigone Memorial after all. First, though, an errand. A brief stop at the Equipment Dock at Rolk’s Fate allows me to re-shield the Mouse and take that to Antigone Memorial instead. As a precaution, I’ve also switched over a couple of the guns and checked for anyone heading that way... And as luck would have it there’s one passenger looking for a trip to The Hole. Perfect, the only thing better than a fast trip is a fast trip you’re being paid for. Moni Da exits at the Trading Station, and I’m 1500Cr better off. And the Boron trust me a little further, too. Onward, then, to Antigone Memorial. And hopefully this time I’ll stay out of trouble...

[SOTS]

Singularly excellent. X3 meets the Punisher meets Moby Dick.

I find it very easy to relate to Scott - an ordinary sort of fellow driven over the edge by grief and anger.

My favourite part so far must be number eight - the abandoned Toucan and Sarma's recording. I originally assumed it was a Pirate trap, thinking they'd left it there to tempt unsuspecting pilots to a sticky end. But when I read Sarma's story, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end.

The latest segment, too, was greatly enjoyable. Maybe, at last, some closure for our antihero! Keep it up, you've earned another avid reader.