[STORY] Best Served Cold (Complete with Epilogue)

[Arcturas]

Very enjoyable story. Keep it up

[gsheriston]

Best Served Cold
Part Twenty-Four - The Mother of Invention

I must have been tired. Why didn’t I just burn straight for the North gate, then jump to the South as soon as the Xenon got within range? They would have been half-a-sector away, leaving me to deliver the passenger in peace then take the Xenon in my own time... The things that cross your mind when you’re trying to get to sleep after a long tazura!

Another thing to tumble through my addled brain in those surreal stazuras was how to draw out one Dominic Farnsworth. I could try and get an Argon security license and march into his office brandishing it – that at least would tell me whether he was the guilty party. Then again, if his ‘collectors’ aren’t concerned about murder and rape, then I guess they wouldn’t feel too worried about pulling the trigger on some jumped-up pilot thinking he’s a great detective. There’s got to be an easy way. I can kinda feel it, like I know what the solution is but can’t see it yet. I can almost hear Beth taunting me with how easy it is and how I should be able to work it out.

One other thing was the sheer amount of time it was going to take me to amass enough credits to buy and equip the M3 I was going to need in order to stand a chance in Brennan’s Triumph. Ideally I’d like something bigger like a Corvette-class, but people don’t just let large dangerous pieces of military hardware into Joe Public’s hands. What I really need is a big cash injection. If I could guarantee picking up Pirate ships and being able to sell them on, then that might do – but I’d prefer something a little more certain. Trading in an M4 isn’t going to do it, at least not quickly. With a million, though, I could set up one of those Mk III trader ships – hire a pilot, and let them roll.

Only trouble is, I don’t have that million. It’s not the kind of cash you find down the back of the flight couch when you get out of your ship, is it? I’ll have to ponder that one. In the mean-time, I have work to do. At least now the Paranid are a little less reticent about letting me loose with cargo...

By the end of the tazura, I’m able to dock in core sectors again. But I’m still a hellishly long way from being able to buy PSG weaponry, or even a docking computer. I’ve crossed Paranid Prime about six times since I let that harridan off my ship at the Chip Plant, and that’s while spending most of the tazura in Empire’s Edge. Incidentally, if I can ever scrape together enough credit for the Mk III ship, that’s where it’s going. It has plenty of food factories, somewhere to offload the food, and a pair of power plants to feed it all. The only thing it’s potentially short of is crystals, and they’re available one sector South... Perfect.

*****

It’s been a few tazuras now since I dropped off the Paranid in panic. While I’m able to dock freely anywhere I like, they’re still not exactly adventurous in terms of letting me do things for them. It’s much slower and harder than I thought it would be. One of the things I really liked about Paranid space is how well it’s policed. Except, that’s now become a liability. I need a lax police force, so there are plenty of Pirates to save from themselves and leave me their beat-up holed hulls to sell for vast profits. Or to kill outright if absolutely necessary, allowing me to improve my standing around these parts. Trouble is, they’re just not here or the local Police/Military get them before I do. So, no hulks for salvage and profit. No missions, or only cheap ones. Trading is slow. I need money, and fast. It’s times like this I can see why Jak and Sarma took out a loan. Trouble is, they always have to be paid back, or someone comes looking.

Um...

Oh.

That’s how to catch a shark. Make it come to you... No wonder I could hear Beth taunting while I was trying to sleep. It’s so simple, I can’t believe I hadn’t seen it earlier. I borrow from Farnsworth with no sign of paying it back, then when he sends the collectors out I turn them over to the authorities. Or not, as the case may be. Up to them, really; though I do kinda like the idea of taking him down with weapons bought by money he’s supplied. Dear Gods when did I get so slow on the uptake? Time to dock, and get some more sleep. I’ll wave Farnsworth when I have a clear head. Where’s that Trading Station...

“Farnsworth Financials, how can I help?”

The voice and face of the wave transmission are both pleasant enough. I take a sip of Kharve before composing my reply.

“Hello, I’d like to arrange an appointment if I can, I need to secure a substantial loan to begin a business operation. At present, I can be free any time after the 4th tazura of next wozura.” That would give me plenty of time to get a suitable business case together, and work out how much I was going to need. It would also give me time to see what other lenders would offer. The reply from Farnsworth Financials took a mizura to arrive, but it was soon flashing on my screen.

“We are very busy at the moment, all of our advisors are fully booked for most of the mazura. However, Mr. Farnsworth himself has an opening on the second tazura of next wozura if you are able to make that appointment. It’s very rare that he sees clients, actually. And he is of course able to offer an instant acceptance if the terms are to your satisfaction.”

Well... Now there is a stroke of luck. Perhaps this is karma paying me back a little, after all this grinding out a living across the Emperor Xaar’s space. I have to take it. It compresses my time-scale a bit but I’m sure I can manage that for an opportunity like this.

“I’ll take the appointment, thank you. My name is Scott Danna, I will be flying an Argon Buster registered AM4YO-79. I look forward to meeting Mr. Farnsworth, and I appreciate him taking time out of his schedule to meet me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Danna. Please arrive at the Marauder station before 2.90 and announce yourself to reception, your 30-mizura appointment will be at 3.10. We look forward to your custom. Good tazura to you.”

All very polite and business-like for a rogue or Pirate operation! Finishing my Kharve, I’ve resolved to spend a couple of stazuras on putting together a business plan and showing how it will all work with some serious start-up capital. First things first, though – how much will it cost to get me one of those Mk III trading ships? It’s times like this I’m glad I kept the Mouse. And, fortuitously, she’s still holed-up in Home of Light, making a nuisance of herself around TerraCorp HQ by hiding under the station’s shields without taking up a docking port and therefore costing me nothing in docking fees... Cheeky, I know. But I guess the ‘verse owes me a bit.

Hmmm. Over 500,000Cr for the software alone?! And I’ll need a ship, too. Mouse to Argon Prime Shipyard, Kharve to Scott Danna, prices to info terminal. Checkmate.

Ouch. A Mercury, fully kitted-out for this kind of work, will run to somewhere close to a million in itself. Or I could go for the Mercury Tanker that has almost double the cargo bay and almost twice the shielding but is considerably slower and costs close to two million. No, the faster ship wins. Having more in the hold is no good if you’re beaten to the best price for the goods. Straight away I can see I’ll need about 2,000,000 just to get started – that kind of figure will get the attention of any lender, let alone the kind I’m trying to gouge... uh... inconvenience. So, can I actually make any money with one of these? Let’s see... Time to leave the dock and head for the target area – Empire’s Edge.

Arriving in the Trading Station, I spot the name of an old contact in the comms list – Olmanckasset does not return my wave. Guess I’m still an ‘undesirable’ around here... Oh, well. Prices, then.

After a stazura of poring over figures, thrashing them through the info terminal’s calculating facilities, some wild guesses, optimistic and pessimistic numbers, a bite to eat and more kharve than I should really be drinking, I reckon that the 2 million investment ought to be paid off in just about a mazura. Maybe two. Or three. By which time, I should have come to the attention of Mr. Farnsworth again... Thing is, I’m actually going to pay back the money to the company – otherwise it’s theft, plain and simple. I just want Farnsworth – or his collector, whoever it is – out of the way first. So that means I’ll be stacking up lots of interest on the unpaid premiums on top of the huge interest they’ll be charging in the first place. Maybe I’ll need three million... But the best thing is that once all the unpleasant business is out of the way I’ll still have a genuine source of income. And all the time, my employee will be improving my name in the Paranid sectors. It’s simple, and brilliant. I’m sure Cora would have suggested it in an instant but she always was the brains of the outfit. I guess I’d better check out some rates with other lenders. I’ll limit myself to Argon systems, while it shouldn’t make any difference financially it will just be easier culturally. No ‘inferior being’, no ‘great profitsss’. Of course, the Split wouldn’t even talk to me right now, let alone lend me money!

By the end of the tazura I’m actually ready to go and meet Farnsworth – but I have another three to wait. Maybe I should practice my interview technique? Just a couple, to see what sort of questions I’m likely to face and how well the business plan holds up. Let’s start in Cloudbase South West...

[SOTS]

It's all coming together now... and don't forget: gratuitous amounts of kharve are a suitable replacement for sleep and good sense!

Personally, I never stabbed anything while twitchy on caffeine that didn't stop being an immediate problem.

[freddiel]

Exellent story. Thanks for all your hard work,

Edit.. I posted this after reading the firs page without seeing several more chapters.

I was compelled to read the rest WOW!!! I would like to say it is brilliant but I can't...It is better than that.

[Hickabooboo]

Wow, I love the story. You have some serious talent, I think!

[gsheriston]

Freddiel, Hickabooboo - welcome aboard, and thanks for your kind words. Sorry I've been a bit slow putting this next part together - don't see things speeding up any time soon, but I'm not about to leave Scott completely to his fate either

Also, an acknowledgement. Thanks to The Zig for Scott's current cunning scheme to solve two of his most pressing problems simultaneously, roughly equivalent to being scooped out of space by the Heart of Gold in my eyes!


Best Served Cold
Part Twenty-Five - As One Door Closes...

The door closed swiftly and silently behind me. If nothing else, that first interview had been a learning experience and actually, pretty useful. I now knew that my plan would take 2.5million to implement fully, and my ROI calculations were out. Fair enough. I also knew the kind of questions I’d be likely to face when I met Farnsworth in a couple of tazuras. I felt drained! It’s very much like a job interview, only more hostile because you’re basically begging for money. Not something I’ve ever been very good at. And worse yet, I had another appointment a couple of stazuras later over on the Trading Station. For the sake of completeness and a look at how both sides of the coin work, I was going to see the other Farnsworth firm.

“Welcome, Mr. Danna. Lisa will be with you shortly, she’s running a little behind schedule just now. Take a seat, can I get you anything to drink?”

The kharve they have there is pretty good. It’s rich, fairly strong without being overpowering, but very, very smooth. I could have sat there and just inhaled all tazura, too. The aroma is incredible, and I burned my lips on the stuff because I was too impatient to let it cool before I tried to drink it. While I waited for it to get a little cooler than exhaust plasma, a door opened just around the corner from where I was sitting in the plush, square reception area. A snippet of speech drifted out and mingled with the kharve smell.

“...settled in nicely, and you’re adapting well to the neural interface. I’ll be back in a wozura for your final certification, then there will be no more restrictions. Good tazura, Mr. Farnsworth.”

The approaching footsteps were followed by a large man in a sharp suit, carrying a very solid case stamped “ACC”, and carrying the logo of an obviously mechanical snake around a staff, an ancient symbol for the medical profession altered to suit the purposes of the Anachron Cybernetics Corporation. ACC is one of the best performing stocks on many Argon markets, and they’re widely recognised as the company to go to for cybernetics. They don’t advertise – they don’t have to.

Another door opened, down the same corridor. Maybe even the same door. Very different-sounding footsteps click-clacked their way towards me, lighter, faster and closer together. Around the corner came a heavily made-up woman who smiled broadly as she extended her hand. Her attire was smart, and modern. Her smile was almost a match for those sales ladies on the Argon Prime shipyard, I should have worn eye protection. Her voice was a little brash, but friendly enough.

“Sorry for the delay, you must be Mr. Danna? I’m Lisa Farnsworth. Come with me, please, and we’ll see if we can help you.”

After just a few mizuras I was getting a very strange feeling from the place. Lisa was asking all the right questions, she just didn’t seem concerned about the answers. About ten mizuras before I was due to leave, the door behind me opened and a gruff voice spoke.

“Lisa, I’m going to grab a bite to eat. Want me to bring anything back for you?”

“Um – that’s OK, Dad. We’re almost done here, aren’t we, Scott? I’ll be with you in about fifteen mizuras if you can wait that long?”

I turned around in my chair and caught sight of the other proprietor of the firm, a short-ish heavy-set man with wide and powerful-looking shoulders. He looked almost radiation-burned on one side of his face, the skin very bright pink around the temple but his dark hair hung low over that part of his face, so I couldn’t see too much.

“Alright, then. Twenty mizuras, at the Goner restaurant on Five. See you there.” He closed the door, and was gone.

Lisa was right, we were almost finished.

“Well, that all seems fairly straightforward and satisfactory, Scott. I’m sure we can do business, I’ll get to work on some figures and wave them to you within the next two tazuras. I’ll include our standard contract terms, so all you’d have to do is imprint them and lodge them with us. We’d be able to release the funds within three tazuras and you’ll be on your way to employing your first trader! It’s good to meet you, and I look forward to hearing from you soon.” She extended her hand again, over her desk, then took me back out to the Reception area.

“Thanks for choosing Farnsworth Financial Holdings, Mr. Danna. You won’t regret it, I’m sure. Look for my wave. Safe travels.”

As the door closed behind me and I stepped into the throng of people in the trading station’s corridor I realised what I’d heard. “Farnsworth Financial Holdings”? Was this the company behind Jak & Sarma’s loan? When I ran my search, I’d only looked for ‘Farnsworth’ and ‘financial services’, in case they’d changed names. The question nagged at me all the way back to BlockBuster, so much so that I forgot even to look for a mission as I left the trading station. I was heading for Farnham’s Legend, but taking a slow tour through Ore Belt, Cloudbase South East, the wreckage of President’s End, then east and North towards the Marauder and my appointment with the other Farnsworth – but was it the right one?

Elena’s Fortune was far quieter than usual, probably something to do with the Centaur patrol that was just leaving the sector as I arrived – a heart-stopping moment, reverting from gate-space and seeing one of those looming large and heading straight for you… Thankfully, BlockBuster now had a full set of rudder tunings and was easily capable of getting out of the way. She’s a very different ship now from the one I prayed would get me to the Argon Prime shipyard with my passenger.

By the time I’d visited the Trading Station and slept for a few stazuras, had a bite to eat and checked local news, word had gotten around that the M6 had left the area. The sector map looked like it was bleeding, there was so much red on it. I guessed this would be a bad time to start a fight, everyone had masses of reinforcements they could call on and unless I could finish the fight quickly I’d soon be facing overwhelming odds. BlockBuster might be much tougher now, but she’s no Destroyer. North, then, and on towards my appointment.

Fate had other plans.

“ATSQD-23 under attack! Somebody help me! Shields at 50% and falling, I can’t take much more of this!”

Calling up the sector map, I could see she was surrounded by a couple of Buzzards and a Falcon. She was also fairly close, so against my better judgement I pointed my nose that way and warmed up the PACs.

“We are the Wraiths. Stay out of this or we will end you too.” The Falcon’s warning wasn’t aimed at me specifically. It was the same kind broad-wave transmission that the distress call had come in on. It wasn’t unusual for Pirate groups to give themselves names like that, usually fearsome beasts from the mixed mythology of the five races. Wraiths were a Paranid variant, ephemeral creatures who stole souls but could only do so if they weren’t being watched. It’s been said that they’re the reason a Paranid only ever blinks one eye at a time, so they always have at least two open.

I was almost within range when a message was finally aimed my way.
“Whoever you are, this ain’t your fight. Go away, and we’ll let you live. For now. Interfere, and you’ll die with the freighter.”

By now, the Mercury was losing hull and speed in equal measure. I had just sezuras to do something, so I launched a broad spread of fire across all three ships. Lingering over the last of the Buzzards, it’s shields dropped to nothing and bits of hull darkened as holes appeared.

“You were warned. Wraiths, kill that Buster. Now.”

I hadn’t realised the Falcon was one with a rear turret, but the sudden PAC impact brought that fact home with some force. Breaking off from the freighter, the two Buzzards peeled in opposite directions to try and circle around behind me while the Falcon tried to pitch its nose towards me. The Mercury hadn’t needed any further urging and was boosting straight for the nearest station while the Wraiths were distracted. Clearly they’d switched to scrambled or private communications to co-ordinate their attack. Whenever I turned to face one of them, another opened fire or, in the Falcon’s case, tried and get between me and the wounded Buzzard. That, however, was my prime target – reduce the number of guns trained on me or the Mercury. Fastest way to do that was to take out the hurt M4, then concentrate fire on the other leaving the Falcon till last. I wasn’t about to try and reason with them this time, I was shooting to kill with one eye watching for the target leaving their ship. Finally, the sustained pressure on the limping Buzzard paid off and it exploded as the engines tore loose from their housing and blasted through the rest of the ship as the pilot tried to activate a boost extension. One down, two to go.

“You’ll pay for that.” The tight-beam transmission was venomous, but I guess I’d just killed the Pirate’s friend, a member of their family, a mate, whatever.

“As they paid for attacking the defenceless Mercury? Give up. You’re out-classed, three of you couldn’t touch me so what makes you think two can take me on? Leave your ships, and I’ll let you live. Fight, and you’ll die too.”

I still need to improve my situational awareness. While I was talking to the Falcon, the other Buzzard had executed a swift end-over-end spin and was pouring fire my way taking almost all of my shields before I realised what was happening. Had it been the Falcon, I’d be dead.

“Some futzing hot-shot you are. You know all the clan ships in this sector are coming to kill you, right? You’re gonna bleed, ‘fore we space you. And once we’ve spaced you, we’ll take you aboard. Then you’ll bleed some more. Then things get real interesting. Got a whole bunch of ways for you to die, and all the time it takes for you to choose one, we’ll be hurting you. So you better choose fast…”

I didn’t have time to reply. Bucking and weaving, the starfield spiralling around me, I had to work hard to get out of the Buzzard’s line of fire and stay out while trying to draw a bead on the Falcon and stay out of the turret’s firing arc. At the same time, I was trying to draw the fight away from the Mercury who was now getting close to a station and safety. I could do with some of that safety myself, though. The Wraith was right, there were lots of ships headed my way. I could out-run some, and out-gun others. But sooner or later, I’d be overwhelmed and cornered. I needed shelter.

“Shields critical”

The Falcon had rolled just enough to get me into a firing arc as I’d flown past him, and was now raking the underside with accelerated particles. Lighting up the engines to maximum, I was able to pull out of it apparently without damage.

“Boost extension: destroyed”

OK, maybe not without damage. So far I still had 199m/s, but I’d lost a lot of acceleration. After seeing the Buzzard’s engines overwhelm their damaged mountings, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. There was an alarming creaking of metal when I turned though, and the nose-up thrusters didn’t seem to be firing all that well…

[hierax]

Just came across this and I have got to say gsheriston, this is a very interesting read.

You should note that I couldn't read chapter 19? it actually made me cry

Good work eagerly awaiting the next chapter...

Edit: actually that was chapter 18 - too moving

[Mystick]

can't wait for the next chapter

[freddiel]

Still with you Gary, don't let everyday responsibilities like work keep you from your next chapters. Pull a sickie

[gsheriston]

Still with you Gary, don't let everyday responsibilities like work keep you from your next chapters. Pull a sickie

Something a bit more sinister, I'm afraid - my X3 PC won't even POST at the moment so I can't get at my saved game to check things. Though I do have work and other stuff that takes up time too.

On the plus side, I do now have a deadline. 1st November, it's got to be finished. So things might get fast and furious... Stick with it, guys 'n' gals. I haven't forgotten about the story.

[Hemectu]

Just finished reading your chapters. Excellent read, you create a very visual reading experience.

I remember several battles in my advanced disco (X3TC) where I got a little over confident in my flying abilities and took a missle, to be finished off by PBG fire.

Hang in there!

[The Zig]

Hey. Just caught up.
Good scenes - though I do think your guy needs to learn some focus - he keeps getting distracted!
Though I guess there's that saying - life's what happens when you're making other plans - so it's all good.

Is your PC better? Not even POSTing sounds bad. Did you have a failed bios upgrade or something?

Now where's this hurried flurry of posts!? 1st of November is weeks away, dude! I mean, I can't complain: I promised Terraformer Dreams end by Christmas... and I didn't even manage the NEXT Christmas! But this so SHOULD be on that compilation thingy Egosoft are doing. Do it!

I want more! I want more!

[gsheriston]

Is your PC better? Not even POSTing sounds bad. Did you have a failed bios upgrade or something?

Now where's this hurried flurry of posts!? 1st of November is weeks away, dude! I mean, I can't complain: I promised Terraformer Dreams end by Christmas... and I didn't even manage the NEXT Christmas! But this so SHOULD be on that compilation thingy Egosoft are doing. Do it!

I want more! I want more!

Sorry to say that the big 'un (Q6600 8GB PC6400, 8800GT) is still deader than a Monty Python Parrot - but the laptop is still going.

But - ask and ye shall receive...

Best Served Cold
Part Twenty-Six - A Friendly Face

… One down, two to go. Trouble is, they were working together and were mostly intact. There was only one of me, and the ship could have started to come apart at any sezura if they kept pasting it like they did. I had to narrow the odds and fast. At least by this point I had a full laser energy bank – so I adopted an old favourite tactic. Get up-close and anti-personnel. More in hope than expectation, the idea was to stop the Buzzard firing on me so much in case it also hit the Falcon. Dropping in behind the Falcon I almost flew into the exhausts. Too close even for the turret to reach me, once I’d dipped out of its firing arc. Pouring bolt after bolt into those engines soon sent something critical – it didn’t even get chance to start reducing speed before it was all over. The expanding gas cloud still contained a few chunks of hull – and worse – which bounced off the reduced shields or even the cockpit housing. One of the Wraith’s charred arms left a nasty smear across my field of view as the splayed fingers separated from the rest on impact. Almost like he’d struck out at me one last time.

The second Buzzard was turning to make another run at the freighter, sensing the battle was lost. I wasn’t about to let that happen. The Mercury was a good 15km from us, and we weren’t that far apart to start with – so the race was a foregone conclusion. Lancing charged particles across the nose of the Buzzard got its attention but didn’t stop the ship from charging on.

“You’re finished, Wraith. The rest are dead, you’re outgunned and you can’t run from me. Fire on the freighter and I will kill you without hesitation. Leave now, and you live.”

“Fine words, but for a smart guy you don’t know nuthin’. Got a family needs feeding, and that freighter’s fat cargo will see us right for a mazura. More, now there’s just me to share the takings. The pilot’ll live, the cargo’s insured, my family eats. Where’s the harm? Now get out of my way, ‘fore I futz you up bad.”

“You want to see that family again? Run. Now. Or they’ll have nobody to feed them.”

The Wraith’s response was predictable, in hindsight – but she still got the drop on me. Letting her speed fall to zero and tracking me as I flew past too slow to respond, the Buzzard raked fire over the flank of BlockBuster. Fire erupted on my right as the engine blew out under the sustained assault and I was pitched into a flat spin momentarily until the ship’s computer recognised the thrust imbalance and vectored the exhaust appropriately by which time I was out of the firing line.

Continuing the turn, I lined up the Buzzard and opened fire myself while pitching, rolling and most importantly strafing to keep myself out of trouble. I tried again.

“I don’t want to kill you. I want you to go home and find another way to feed your family. But if you keep firing I’ll have no choice.”

Her answer was as swift as it was predictable – and regrettable. Just goes to prove that you can't always get what you want. They say we use a high percentage of non-verbal communication, I guess the incoming PAC fire counted amongst that percentage, but I got the gist of her message and I had no option but to answer in kind. Another family, broken. Children without a mother, without food, without anyone in this galaxy to look after them, and I’d pulled the trigger. Did I have any other options I could have taken? I couldn’t see them. What kind of life had I just condemned the Pirate’s children to? I’d never know. Suddenly I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to forget I’d had any part in it. Just then, I'd have gladly reached for a Space Fuel. First time I'd thought about it in tazuras.

Still, there had been a positive outcome in one respect- the Mercury that had been under fire was now almost to the station. I keyed the comm. system and let the pilot know they were safe.

“You got ‘em? All of ‘em? Wow. Thanks, I guess you saved my life. If you’re on-station in the next tazura, comm. the ship and there will be drinks on me.”

“Actually I’m pretty much following you into the station. Think I’ll take you up on that offer, I could use a drink.”

“Sure – just gimme a few mizuras to unload and reload, and freshen up a bit.” There was a pause, and some weird sniffing, breathing-type noise. “Uh - maybe not in that order though. Comm the ship in 10 mizuras and I’ll make arrangements. Out”

When I finally got to meet the pilot, she told me a little about herself. “Name’s Val. Val Kleppen. I’m just an independent haulier, usually I’m way outta these border sectors but I had this one run that would set me up for mazuras, maybe even let me take a break somewhere. Only trouble is, it brought me in here. I’m just not used to border sectors. Ol’ Faithful ain’t as fast as I need her to be in these here parts and the neighbours sure ain’t that neighbourly. Only you gave a damn about trying to help me out, guess that’s why a lone freighter’s such an easy target. Folks just don’t help each other no more. So – buy you a beer, hotshot?”

Val was a fairly short woman, stocky rather than petite. From a high-gravity world was my guess, and I wasn’t far wrong. She was a long way from her system of origin – Treasure Chest. Like me, she was seeking her fortune among the stars moving things and people from one place to another. Over the course of a few more drinks (Boron cocktails in my case, the thought of a 'fuel was tempting but I still had to fly) and a Big Cahoona Burger, we swapped stories. She was looking for enough to retire on, or at least to set herself up with a factory. Maybe even just join a haulage company.

“When you get down to it, I’m tired of running with nobody watching my back. I call for help, nobody’s listening. I lucked out when you charged in, first time that’s happened to me in the last ten jazuras. Lost me a couple big cargoes before now, even a ship once. Put me right back to the beginning, but I had enough left to start over. Right now, I don’t. Been stiffed outta my bonus payment, they tell me I was 'over my scheduled time'. TWO lousy mizuras out, 'cause I was under fire and running for ma life. Can’t tell ya what I’d like to do to ‘em, wouldn’t be right with you bein’ a gentleman an’ all. Got just enough to re-stock, then I’m headed for Argon Prime for whatever repairs I can afford. You wouldn’t care to give me an escort, would ya? Help a spacer out?”

“Uh – I have an appointment I need to keep first, but if you’re still here in a tazura then wave me and I’ll watch your back at least out of here and through President’s End.”

“You got it, hotshot. Reckon I'll wait, even if I'm ready. Anything’s left after the repairs and re-stock, and it’s yours. I might have been dead by now.”

And by now, I was running short on time myself. I made my apologies, thanked Val for the drinks and headed back to the ship. Firing the engines, I wondered whether I was now a marked man by virtue of destroying the Wraiths – what if they’d been just an element of a bigger group, and that silence wasn’t just combat co-ordination?

It seems I had ‘lucked out’ too – heading North from Elena’s Fortune was fairly easy, and I got to the Marauder about a stazura early. I made my way to Farnsworth’s door and stepped into a comfortable but slightly old-fashioned reception area. It was decorated in dark genuine wood panels, and a thick blue carpet. Formal portrait-style holos of two men hung on opposite walls, presumably the founders.

“Hi, I’m pretty early for my appointment with Mr. Farnsworth but could I just wait here for him?” Behind the rich onybara-wood desk sat a raven-haired young lady, dark skin and grey eyes. She had been tapping at an infoterminal when I arrived.

“You must be Mr. Danna. Of course you can wait, he’s expecting you but won’t be able to see you until your allotted time. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“That’s fine, I don’t want to disturb him, or try to jump the queue – just don’t really have anywhere else I need to be. I’d love a kharve if there’s one available?”

A stazura later, and I was sitting in front of another Farnsworth. Michael, this time; he was the younger of the two men in the holos in the reception area. He didn’t have the look of a big finance company, though the operation looked like one. He looked… well… unremarkable I guess is the best word. Certainly had two eyes, and even appeared slightly nervous of me for some reason. Still, evil has many faces. I had to keep an open mind, and there was no way to tell whether he had operatives working for him who were nastier than he was. By the end of the interview, though, he’d gone through my plans with a fine-toothed comb, pulling out inconsistencies and puncturing assumptions, questioning my return on investment and likely profit figures. By the time we’d done, he’d just about halved my planned income but I felt it was far more achievable and likely. He gave me confidence in my figures, and I got the impression he really wanted me to succeed.

“And if I start to have trouble making repayments?” This was the crucial test as far as I was concerned. I hadn’t asked Lisa, and was regretting that. I realised I’d have to wave her and find out the answer, maybe even go over there and do it face-to-face.

“Come back to us. Straight away. Please don’t hesitate, we’d much rather discuss any issues like that early than be surprised by them and have no time to help you put them right. We’re not heartless, and we’re not inflexible – we’re quite willing to extend terms and reduce repayments if you run into difficulty, but it’s much more difficult if you’ve just sold off your ship to make the last two payments then told us you have no income. We’ve dealt with many traders like yourself and we know that sometimes, the trades just don’t come. If it helps make sense of it, we actually make more profit that way, as you’re paying and accruing interest for longer so it’s <ahem> in our interest to keep you on for longer as a client.” He smiled a little, at what I guessed was probably an old favourite joke. He went on, though.

“However, that does expose us to risk for longer, so our initial repayment plan is designed to recoup our investment at the fastest sustainable rate. Of course, should you simply default on the agreement we would have no choice but to pursue claims through the courts and have them seize assets on our behalf – but in all our 64-jazura history, this company has never had to do that. It’s a fact we’re proud of. We choose our clients carefully, we work with them, we help them, and we get our investment returned. You could call it a ‘mission statement’, if you paid attention to such things. I like to think that we simply have good values here. It’s worked for us so far.”

“That’s very comforting to hear, Mr. Farnsworth. Uh… When I waved initially, I was told you might be able to give me an immediate decision – would you be prepared to advance the amount we think I will need?”

“After seeing – and adjusting – your figures, I believe the company would be prepared to invest the sum you have proposed. However, we do have some due-diligence checks to perform before we could give a final decision and release funds. We also need to determine your repayment plan, though the figures we’ve already discussed won’t be too far from the final value as I’ve used our standard rates throughout. You can expect a wave within two tazuras to confirm this, but unless there’s anything you’re hiding from us I see no reason why we shouldn’t invest in your enterprise.”

I could tell he was a real financier. Not once in the entire interview did he use the word 'money'.

He rose, and shook my hand across the desk. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Danna. I don’t often get to do this, and it’s refreshing to remind myself from time to time just how we can change lives here. Thank you for that opportunity.” His smile was warm, and I got a real sense of pride and accomplishment radiating from him. He was genuinely proud of his company, and given the age of it compared to his own – or my own, he must have been within a jazura or two of it – this was a family firm started by the previous generation. That’s a long time for a finance firm to have no defaulters… Were his claims believable, or were there grisly secrets hiding behind the mild-mannered accountant’s façade?

As BlockBuster powered away from the Marauder, I couldn’t escape the feeling that the Cloudbase firm was my real target. I got my answer about a stazura later in President’s End, when Lisa’s wave arrived. All the signs said that it’s the ‘respectable’ address that’s harbouring the bad guys... An astronomical 40% JPR on 2.5 million will cost me more than 6.8 million over the three jazuras, not far off 300,000 per mazura. Strange thing was, it’s actually do-able if I can get access to the high-value goods. There’s just one catch. I’m still less popular than body-odour in a space-suit around the area I’ll be setting this trader to work. If I’m going to be in a position to pay back all the money when the ‘collectors’ arrive, I’m going to have to step up my Police action quite a lot and hope that the Pirates see sense. Especially the ones with M3-class ships...

[gsheriston]

Best Served Cold
Part Twenty-Seven - Agreements

“Val? Scott. Got a proposition for you.”

I’d been back through Elena’s Fortune and met up with Val Kleppen to escort her back to Argon Prime. Our damaged ships had an easy but slow run through the sectors, though she’d decided maybe I wasn’t such a gentleman after all, when I inadvertently leaned on my close-comms button as Lisa’s wave arrived and Val heard my reaction to the figures. Now, though, we were approaching Argon Prime shipyard.

“Whassup, hotshot?”

“I’ll tell you in the bar. See you in fifteen mizuras?”

“Gimme twenty and it’s a deal. Meal’s on me. Don’t care if we had no trouble, I felt way safer knowing there was someone watching out for me. Makes a nice change, and a hell of a difference.”

Twenty mizuras later, we arrived in the bar and ordered food.

“So whatcha got in mind, hotshot?”

That tag was starting to irritate me a little, but I let it slide for the time being. Besides – arguing over something so petty wouldn’t be a good start to a business arrangement.

“Well… You know you said you might join a haulage company? Just so happens I’m about to gain a considerable cash investment, with the intention of setting up a trader to earn me a steady income. Top of the line brand new Mercury, Mk III trading software, every upgrade I can jam onto her. Even a jumper. But I need a pilot, and I wondered if you’d consider taking the job. Work a single sector, bleed it dry of profit opportunities, move on somewhere else. Only core sectors, unless you decide you want to go further afield, no time limits to meet, only profit targets. Your routes, your trades, your decisions, my capital. Complete freedom. Your pay would be based on flying time, and a percentage of the trades just to keep things interesting for you. And, you’ll have a direct link to me so I can come bail you out if things get hot. Sound interesting?”

“Uh… well… Um… Yeah, it sounds interesting. But I’d rather keep Ol’ Faithful if that’s OK with you. She’s not just a ship, she’s home, you know?”

“Sure, I know. I could get her fixed up though, and upgraded- she’d be faster, more reliable, more manoeuvrable, and loaded with gadgets. Your home, but better. Actually, I’d have to kind of insist on the upgrades. I do need that income, and you can’t deny that a faster ship is better for trading than a slower one of the same capacity, can you?”

“Hells, no. As long as you don’t touch the pilot’s seat or my cabin, I don’t care what you do to the engines or the cargo bay. Think she’s already got most of what I need though. OK, hotshot – you just got yourself a pilot. When do we start?”

That was a good question. Right at that point, I couldn’t afford to repair BlockBuster’s damage, let alone Ol’ Faithful’s. I needed Farnsworth’s funds – but which Farnsworth? I’d had my contact from Lisa, and just as we arrived at the Shipyard I got a wave from Michael as well – confirming his figures at a little over 140,000 per mazura, less than half the repayment Lisa had offered me. It was so tempting to accept Michael’s offer and just do what I’d told him I would – but I had a debt to Sarma and Jak that I had to repay. With considerable interest, and then prejudice. Lisa it would be, then.

“Um… Well, first I have to get the investment funds released and sign some papers. Then we’ll get started on repairs and upgrades, and when we’re done we’ll ship out to Empire’s Edge. Should be a few tazuras, a wozura at the outside. I hope you don’t have any trouble with the Paranid?”

“WHAT?! You’re sending me to the tri-eyes? You said it would be my decisions, and I had complete freedom!”

“I did. And I think when you see the figures, you’ll agree with that suggestion. You don’t have to take it. However, I’ll still expect to see you making about 200,000 per wozura wherever you decide to go. I’ve suggested Empire’s Edge because it’s so heavily policed, and it has a great mix of stations. It’s profitable, which is good for both of us in monetary terms. It’s also safe, which is good for your health and my investment. I’ll jump in if you get into hot water, but I don’t want to be doing that every other stazura and I might not have enough energy on board to get to you fast enough. You know my story, I don’t want to be chasing fuel again before jumping in to try and save another ship under fire. Last time, it didn’t go so well. Understand?”

Val fell silent for a few sezuras. I guess I’d spoken quite harshly, and too loud. I went to apologise, but she cut me off.

“Yes. Yes, I understand. Look, I get it. The Paranid creep me out a piece, but I know what you’re saying. I’ll take your suggestion. Just don’t try and load me up with guilt about your family, OK? This is a business partnership, and if I think it’s gone sour, I’ll walk. I did plenty well before I had to run into Elena’s Fortune, and I can do it again. I know you’re hurtin’, Scott. Believe me, I know. But that’s your pain and not mine. Hells, you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen. Owe you that much at the very least. Just don’t bring it into the business, and we’ll get along fine.”

I hung my head, and put my face in my hands. When I pulled it back up again, Val let me apologise at last.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was saying. No, that’s not true. I did think about it, I just shouldn’t have said it after I’d thought it. I’ll do better, I promise. And thank you for the offer, too. There are times when it would be good to talk.”

Val reached over the table, and laid her hand on mine, patting it gently a couple of times. There was a different expression on her face, less hard-bitten, much softer; so was her voice. “It’s OK, hotshot. It’s OK. We all go off the rails sometimes. Just try a bit harder to think first and speak later, is all. Now, drink up. I believe you have waves to place? You should get gone. As for me, I’m gonna check out the equipment dock’s listing and see what Ol’ Faithful might be missing.”

A stazura later, and I had an agreement with Farnsworth Financial Holdings. They would advance me 2.5 million credits, available in three stazuras. No due diligence checks, no nothing. And when quizzed about falling behind, I got some vague words about ‘wanting to work with clients’ and some rather less vague words about loans being ‘secured on property and person’, and that they had their own internal collections department. I had chosen correctly, these were the scum that killed Jak and Sarma. Well, hopefully they would have their vengeance through me. In time, anyway.

The following tazura saw Val and I meeting up at TerraCorp Headquarters. Ol’ Faithful was resplendent with not just a full hull repair job but gleaming new manoeuvring thrusters and bigger engine housing. She’d even had a new paint job, and looked very much a new ship- even if the lurid blue did hurt my eyes. At the point we were grabbing kharve, there were engineers crawling into the engine bay fitting her new jumper, and hooking it into the navigation systems. By the time we’d finished eating, they were done and the Trade MkIII software was busy initialising itself.

Four equipment docks and three stazuras later, we had arrived in Empire’s Edge Trading Port. Val had her ‘better than new’ old home, and I had an employee… Not a situation I’d expected a mazura ago. And because we were using Val’s ship, I still had a cool 100,000 more than I expected – it would have been more, had we not needed to repair both Ol’ Faithful and BlockBuster. But hey, I wasn’t about to complain. Val and I were standing on the observation deck, overlooking the docking clamps. Below us were a multitude of ships, but the Mercury and the Buster stood out among the mostly Paranid vessels. That and the… um… vibrant blue of Ol’ Faithful, anyway. Nobody could claim they hadn’t seen her coming.

“This is it, then – are you up to speed with the software now?”

“Of course. I’m not as dumb as you look! It’ll take a while to see how to get the best out of it, but I know enough to get started. Just don’t go spending all the capital right before I need it. I’ll slap you silly, if I ever get to a fully-loaded station and there’s no cash in the kitty.”

We both laughed. I also believed she was deadly serious.

“Well… I guess I better let you get to work, right? Just remember. If you need help, call out. I’ll be here as fast as I can, but don’t wait to be rescued. Head for the Police ships, or a station, even an asteroid. Your turret has PAC now, and it’ll shoot down missiles headed your way. You have the jumper, so keep some emergency fuel stashed away – it’s not like you’re short of cargo space. As the Teladi say – ‘Great profit to you!’”

“Are you done, Mother?” She could barely speak for laughing. “My turn. Wash behind your ears, clean your teeth after every meal, don’t stay out late and don’t go chasing loose women in bars. And I meant what I said about keeping cash in the kitty. You might be my employer now, but I will slap you if I have to.”

We shook hands, and took the tubes to our respective docking clamps. I released and headed North, Val pointed Ol’ Faithful at the Solar Power Plant and powered away, I could hear her over the short-range comm., hooting with glee as the boost extension she’d never had before now kicked her in the butt. It had begun.

Over the last few tazuras, I’d explained to Val some of what I was planning to do – the station, the fight with the Pirates. Val was in full support of it. Just before we got out of short comm. range, mine burst into life again.

"Hey, hotshot - good hunting..."

I hadn’t mentioned the loan to her, or what I was (or wasn’t) going to do about paying it back. I wasn't sure how I was going to corner Farnsworth's collectors. I just knew that after the first couple of mazuras, I would stop making payments and see what happened. And I still needed a bigger ship…

[collins50]

Id been waiting for your new chapters, it was worth it.
thanks, Good Job

[The Zig]

Excellent! Great stuff.

Did wonder where you were going with the sudden fight scene, but it's brought us a cool employee/companion for Scott. Good to see another thread of the masterplan falling into place!
One thing that's still intriguing is that, despite it all, Scott still can't totally de-humanise his enemy. He still tries to talk to them. Still feels remorse over them. Still worries about their families, and what his wife would think. It's a weakness, but definitely one that makes him more likeable.

Personally, if I were Scott, here's what I'd do now:
Soon as the credits are safely in my bank I'd send Farnsworth a little video message:
"Ha! Thanks for the money, scum! You've just been scammed by the Wraiths. Your money?! It's mine now. Cheers. [Drinks] You want it back, take it. We ain't hiding. We're at the pirate base right here in Brennan's Triumph. There's a drink waitin for ya. It's on me. Come on, dumb ass. You want your money back, take it. I dare ya. You're probably about stupid enough to try! Look forward to seein ya silly trustin little face again, dumb ass! Byyyyye xxx"

Would quite possibly fail.
But if it worked...

[gsheriston]

One thing that's still intriguing is that, despite it all, Scott still can't totally de-humanise his enemy. He still tries to talk to them. Still feels remorse over them. Still worries about their families, and what his wife would think. It's a weakness, but definitely one that makes him more likeable.

Personally, if I were Scott, here's what I'd do now:
Soon as the credits are safely in my bank I'd send Farnsworth a little video message:
"Ha! Thanks for the money, scum! You've just been scammed by the Wraiths. Your money?! It's mine now. Cheers. [Drinks] You want it back, take it. We ain't hiding. We're at the pirate base right here in Brennan's Triumph. There's a drink waitin for ya. It's on me. Come on, dumb ass. You want your money back, take it. I dare ya. You're probably about stupid enough to try! Look forward to seein ya silly trustin little face again, dumb ass! Byyyyye xxx"

Would quite possibly fail.
But if it worked...

That's a really interesting idea! There are other plans for Farnsworth, though...

Scott being Scott, he wants to do the damage himself on the Pirate base. That's his fight. And yes, he still feels guilty every time a pilot goes down with his or her ship. Specially if he has a conversation like he did with that last Wraith, it really brings it home to him that what he's doing has consequences he will never know or is better off not knowing. He really is trying to save their lives, but some people - they just don't want to be saved.

What interested me about the first chapter and what led me to write the second, was his possible descent into madness after the horror he'd witnessed and the hopelessness/powerlessness he must have felt. His fight to keep who he was, in the face of the twin temptations of the red mist and the 'fuel. He's a good man, forced into doing bad things, for good reasons. It's confusing his morals, and that's hurting him a lot too. He knows he has nobody to answer to, and could probably do just about anything - but still wants to be someone his family would be proud of, and that just reminds him that they're not here any more; which makes him more angry. He's a mess, frankly!

[hierax]

Good work so far!!!

I hope there is more to come....and I so like where this is going.

[The Zig]

That's a really interesting idea! There are other plans for Farnsworth, though...

I though as much. I'm defninitely sensing some kind of plan, though I can't see what it is yet. When he visited their office... was interesting. Looking forward to finding out.

I hope there is more to come....and I so like where this is going.

Me too. It's a great story.

[gsheriston]

Got to pick up the pace... Superbox is too damned close! I could use another month but there's no way I'll get it This might feel a little rushed, I just hope I can keep it acceptable. Please, please let me know if standards fall.

Best Served Cold
Chapter Twenty-Eight - R&R: Rescue and Reward

Jump device charging at… ten percent

I could reach her system, I just hoped I could get there in time.

“I’m inbound to the South gate – I’ll be there in a few sezuras, so try and run that way, I’ll intercept as soon as I can. What in the name of all the Hells are you doing in Moo-Kye’s Revenge anyway? And why didn’t you just jump out when things turned sour?”

“Damnit, hotshot! Ever heard that ol’ expression ‘shoot first, ask questions later’? Get your ass in here and get on with the ‘shoot first’ part, will ya? My jumper’s out and the PAC’s running too hot. Think it’s about done. When they work that out, they’ll throw missiles and I’m toast. I dunno why I’m not dead already! Get me outta this!”

Fifty percent

I hadn’t seen Val in about three mazuras. She’d steadily built up a fair profit in that time, and had been keeping Sarma’s Peace moving while she was flitting around Empire’s Edge and beyond. As she’d become more confident with the Mk III software, and as I’d been laying a satellite network, she had tied into more and more sectors accessing their prices and making longer jumps. Just how she’d managed to get prices for Moo-Kye’s, I had no idea – I didn’t have any satellites in there so I guessed she was using an outside network too.

Jumping…

Arriving at the South Gate, the star-swirl clearing before me, suddenly I felt like I was right back in Brennan’s Triumph. A little way ahead was a furious knot of fighters, surrounding a bigger ship. OK, this wasn’t a Mammoth – and it didn’t contain my family – but Val was the closest I had at that point. They were toying with her, presumably hoping she would drop cargo or perhaps abandon ship. Had they simply gone in for the kill she wouldn’t have lasted more than a few sezuras. I would never even have known about it. Val was in big trouble, if they got frustrated.

It hadn’t worked last time, but I tried the tactic again anyway – launching about six Mosquitoes at the cloud to try and get their attention. This time, it drew some away. Then more. Suddenly, all twelve were headed in my direction and I started wondering if this was really the smartest tactic I could have used…

“Don’t know who ye are, but you’re in a whole world of pain mi’lad. Good news is, it won’t be for long. We’ll just clean you up, then go back to that freighter over there – don’t you worry yourself none, it’ll be quick. Right, me ‘earties?”

“Yarrr!”

Oh, lords… Over-dramatic Pirate clichés. Perfect. I bet he had an eye-patch. Maybe even a bird on his shoulder. Unfortunately the Argon wasn’t just a cliché, he was a cliché with eleven other ships all chasing me. All at different speeds, though…

“Val – I’m going to turn tail and run for a while, try and draw them further away from you and spread them out a bit, lessen the odds. Holler if any start back towards you, but head for the Shipyard in Cardinal’s. I’ll meet you there if I can. And if I can’t – well, you know the account codes. Consider it an inheritance. Just don’t start the party for a couple of stazuras, OK?”

“You’ll be fine. There’s only twelve, you’ve got ‘em outnumbered! See ya in the bar… Atreus’ Sunrise on the rocks, right? It’ll be waitin’ for ya.”

“It better be. Try and find me an Argnu steak too. That might be tough in a Paranid station though.”

“I’ll bet it is – they’re not used to real food, always over-cook the damn stuff. Out.”

I had to smile, despite the seriousness of the situation. And it was serious, I was being chased by two Harriers, six Buzzards, two Falcons and a pair of Novas. The Novas’ rear turrets were still firing high energy plasma at Val, but would be out of range in a few sezuras – Ol’ Faithful’s shields were still holding and could sustain that pressure. The Harriers were gaining on me though, and fast. Thankfully, they weren’t too hot on situational awareness and the first ran straight into a full spread of PAC fire, coming apart at the seams as it did so. The incoming stream slid harmlessly past my left side and as I rolled and strafed the other target presented itself. Ten-to-one odds.

“Who are ye, boy? Just want to know what to put on me kill-list… There’s a blood price for what you just did, and I’ll make sure you pay.”

“Name’s Scott Danna. Not that you’ll need to trouble that kill-list with it. You can still give up, you know? Ask around, I’ve let surrendered Pirates go before now.”

“You’re a feisty one, alright! You ‘eard ‘im, me ‘earties – should we turn tail and run in the face o' this mighty Buster?!”

His laugh was loud, and raucous. As was that of his crew, despite being down two already. However, both scouts were now gone and the Buzzards were coming into range so I turned again and fled East, away from the gate that would be Val’s exit. So far they hadn’t realised she was getting away, or perhaps didn’t care. Three of the Buzzards were slightly faster – one of those took a tiny lead over their two wingmen, falling into a V formation. On my camera, I could see them open fire behind me. Pointing my nose away from the stream meant the green plasma bolts lit up the cockpit as they blasted over me. Reversing the dive kept me out of their second burst and continuing the climb into a loop left me bearing down on the top of the formation – the left Buzzard was cut in half by PAC fire, and the Pirate quickly evacuated. I didn’t see the species, but the space-suit was caught by the explosion in the engine bay. Nine-to-one.

Space turned blue around me, and BlockBuster seemed to shudder with an awful grinding screech. One of those Buzzards had a PSG! Whoever it was, they had to be my main target. Or… maybe not? By now I was streaking in towards the Falcons, and the relatively ponderous but utterly lethal Novas. Close behind me, a flock of Buzzards – one of them indiscriminately firing a phased shockwave generator right at me…

Have you ever seen one of those fired, close-up? Seen the effect on a ship? I have. The lead Falcon seemed to ripple in space, waves flowing down the long body, firing rivets out into space and popping body panels away from the structure as they passed.

Shields critical…

This was too much for me – I was just on the edge of the cone, and by rights I should be dead too. Still, the PSG had virtually done for one of the Falcons and I could see the other slowing dramatically too. Looping away from the formation I pulled back down towards that fourth Buzzard who’d just helped me out so much. The rest had been firing nothing more than PACs – one was even shooting IREs, so these were not wealthy Pirates. But that PSG-wielder had to go, and fast. It was lined up in the sights, just a sezura more…

Boost extension – destroyed
Jump drive – destroyed
Five Mega Joule Shield – damaged

Something had caught me, and hard. One of the Novas, it must have been. The Buzzard fell out of my sights and I struggled to find him. There. Lined up, squeeeeeze the trigger and hold it – boom. Scratch one Buzzard. Eight-to-one, but the Novas were coming into the game now; that was too much fight for me. BlockBuster was hurt, and limping a little after the Nova’s blast. I needed distance.

“I’m almost clear, hotshot – be careful. You’re in a bad way.”

Like I hadn’t noticed... If the drive had still been operating, I’d have jumped for the South gate just to get some time for my shields to recharge. But I didn’t have that option. Thankfully, my poor battered ship was still just about fast enough to outrun the ugly mass of M3s headed my way – particularly after the Falcons were so badly damaged. Ideally I’d finish them off before their shields recovered, but that wasn’t an option either. The Buzzards were circling, almost like they were waiting for some killer blow from the Novas. Then one of those tanks launched something – I’d never seen one, but the lightning spreading from it marked it clearly as an Ion Disruptor. My shields drained, and the Buzzards started to turn in – but as the one closest to me got within range I realised the Disruptor had formed a chain… Not only draining my shields, but the Buzzard’s, too – PAC fire punched through its cockpit and I had to swerve to dodge the debris. With no shields, it would have been bad – probably terminal.

These were probably the worst Pirates I’d never heard of…

“Do you want to give up now, or should I just get out of the way while you kill each other?”

The spokesparrot must have been in the other Nova.

“Landlubbers! This boy be makin’ a fool of ye all! Outta my way, I’ll finish the whelp mesel’ – back to base, ya mangy sons of rancid whores! Try an’ stay alive till I get back, so’s I can kill you.”

I couldn’t believe it. The remaining ships actually broke off, and turned away! The one Nova that left fired a couple of parting shots from the turret, but almost hit his flight leader. Suddenly, I was in a one-on-one fight with a Nova…

And last time that happened, it went really, really badly.

This time, though, I knew one important fact. Staying below the ship meant that the turret couldn’t get at me. Get below, stay below, keep shooting. The Nova was slower than BlockBuster, even damaged as she was – and with one of the shields so much scrap metal in the hold, I had no margin for error. The Pirate knew it, and kept rolling his ship trying for an angle with the turret – but eventually the PACs chewed through the shields and into the hull. What should have been a titanic struggle turned out to be a damp squib, the Pirate really not having the stomach for being on the losing end of a fight.

“Bah! Let’s see you keep your word, boy – you can have what’s left o’ the ship, and I’ll leave you be. Take her, and may her air seals kill you while you sleep. I’m wanted in half the known sectors, so you’ll not be havin’ an easy time o’ things…”

The targeting reticule turned blue, and the Pirate exited the Nova. I let him go, as usual. Perhaps the story would start to get around now. However, this was a big moment. The ship alone was worth over a million, depending on condition. That would go a long way towards paying off Farnsworth and they were starting to get a little edgy. The first wozura’s payment was on time – so was the second, and up to the fifth. Then I let them start to slip – a tazura here, another couple there… I’d already had a concerned wave from Lisa, so the plan was working so far. Last wozura, they hadn’t seen a single credit. They wouldn’t this wozura either. The following wozura, I intended to send them half a payment. Then that would be it and I’d just wait ‘till they were ready to get nasty.

But right at that point, I had a prize to claim – and that was only half the fun. After I had it, I had to get it out safely with whatever shields and guns the Pirate had left intact. That meant making sure I didn’t claim it until I had enough clear space to run for Paranid space. If the ship really was that badly wanted, I had to move it on quickly. And maybe at a reduced rate, people don’t like hot ships especially in ultra-cautious Paranid space. A wanted Nova exiting a Pirate sector and making a direct line for the Shipyard might well be intercepted and destroyed before reaching it. Luckily, though, the Pirates were all heading back to base to face the wrath of their leader – assuming he made it that far.

So – time to claim the prize. And what a prize it was, the near-legendary Nova Raider, as enhanced by some Pirate tweakery. Clearly Lady Fortune had smiled on me that day. Not only was this the Pirate Nova Raider, but the erstwhile Captain had forgotten a few things on his way out. This lady had a functioning jumper, and a transporter device! The jumper would come in useful, since mine was little more than additional ballast at that point. The transporter… well, I’d never used one. So that was kind of an unknown quantity, but I was happy to take it. I had no idea how useful it would become.

Settling into the pilot’s seat I realised I had no shields, no weapons, no missiles. I was a complete sitting duck – still had quite a lot of hull left, but couldn’t make top speed. BlockBuster wasn’t in any fit shape to be an escort fighter either. I just had to run for it, and hope Cora was watching over me.

This time, I think she was.

The star-swirl of the gate gave way to the thick red fog of Cardinal’s Domain. The sector map showed me the location of stations, and also an Odysseus with a couple of Nemesis escorts. Shortly after I got myself on course for the Shipyard, an Atreus’ Sunset and a thick juicy Argnu steak, One of those two Nemesis (Nemesi? Nemisisses?) started heading straight for me – the other held back to stay with the Odysseus while it started its ponderous turn.

“Nova Raider AM3-PTH2 you are listed as wanted in this sector. Power down your weapons, shields and engines, then prepare for boarding. The Paranid Empire will not tolerate piracy.”

“I’m not a Pirate! My name is Scott Danna – I have just captured this Nova Raider and am flying it to the Shipyard for repair, ownership registration and possibly sale. I have no weapons, and no shields. Usually I fly the Buster that’s just arrived in-sector, scan that instead.”

I could perhaps have worded that better, considering the audience...

“Silence! The Paranid Empire does not take demands from lower life-forms. Can you prove what you say?”

“The logs in the Buster contain the messages exchanged between myself and this vessel’s previous owner. I would gladly turn them over to the Paranid Empire for examination, if that would satisfy your eminence?”

I’ve found that the easiest way to deal with a Paranid is to go along with their ‘superior being’ delusion. Just because I sound like I believe it, it doesn’t mean I actually do believe it.

“Very well. Is there anyone else who could verify your story independently?”

“On the Shipyard is an employee of mine, Val Kleppen . She will testify that I jumped in to help her escape from a Pirate ambush, though she was already in this sector when I captured the vessel. Her logs, on a ship called the Ol’ Faithful will corroborate our testimony.”

“You will dock at the Shipyard. If you deviate from that course, you will be destroyed. Once docked, you will wait for us to contact you. Do not leave your ship, or this will be seen as an attempt to resist arrest. You will be executed without warning, should you do so.”

Touchy bunch, the Paranid. Still, I wasn’t about to disobey orders, at this point I couldn’t fight my way out of a wet paper bag without covering fire from a couple of laser towers and three legions of Split Marine troops to help.

They might be touchy, but dear Lords do they believe in records… Within five mizuras of making contact they had lifted all the logs from BlockBuster and Ol’ Faithful. Within fifteen mizuras, Val and I were headed for the bar. The Paranid Nemesis’ captain dismissed us with a curt “Begone, human. And be thankful you are not charged with wasting valuable Paranid time.” That’s as close as I was going to get to an apology. I’d forgotten how frankly unpleasant they can be to someone who is not in good standing with the Empire.

Val and I reached the Argon restaurant, and she ordered steaks for us both - a beer for her, and an Atreus' Sunrise for me. I hadn't touched 'fuel in wozuras.

“So, spill, hotshot! How in the name of all the Hells did you get out o’ that lot? Last I saw, you’d taken a hell of a beating and were surrounded – what happened? They catch a whiff of your breath or something?”

Charming, as ever… I had to laugh, though. Something about Val just made it impossible for me to stay mad with her. Even when she was insulting me.

“I just showed them a holo, then told them you were heading off to shower so you’d be ready to meet them here. They all headed straight back to base to change into nicer clothes. Told them the ‘fuel’s on you, too. Should be here any mizura, the whole bunch of them. Hope you’re feeling generous…”

I can’t really repeat her response, but it was a fair stream of invective aimed at my parentage, common sense, genetic origins, personal habits… You get the idea.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Still not sure I believe it myself. They were incredibly inept! I mean seriously uncoordinated. They were a bigger danger to each other than they were to me. The leader told them to get back to base before they killed themselves, and I reckon he probably saved all their lives.”

“You’re serious?”

We had occasionally swapped outrageous stories via wave in the mazuras since we'd last seen each other back in Empire's Edge. Some of them had even been true.

“Absolutely. The Boss stayed to fight, until he realised he was outclassed. Not outgunned, just out-thought, and out-flown. Gave up a Nova Raider, with barely a scratch. No weapons or shields, but a jumper and even a transporter. If your jumper’s fried then you should probably take that one. We’ll get it moved over after dinner. I’ll shift the Transporter to BlockBuster, and get her patched up. Then I think the hot Nova will become somebody else’s problem – I’ll take the cash, thank you. Probably need most of it for repairs anyway.”

Our steaks arrived. And yes, they were overcooked. The Boron waiter looked apologetic, and said the Paranid chef was one of the finest in the sector – just not with Argon food. Actually, I’m not sure ‘overcooked’ does them justice. I considered keeping mine for an emergency hull repair kit, and said so. Val laughed, and said she needed a new sole on one of her boots – her steak would do just fine. The drinks were good, though.

“OK, your turn. Just how did you find yourself in Moo-Kye’s in the first place?”

“Uh… Well, it’s kinda… um… OK, OK. I’ve gotten real used to the Mk III feeding me info from all over the place. Not just your network, either- I have my own contacts. Hey, girl's gotta have some secrets! I just pick the best price for what I’ve got, or if I’m empty the best price for whatever’s out there, and I go. It’s all hooked up to the Jumper, I just hit the button and I’m gone – autopilot takes me straight there, fastest route. I bet she could virtually do it without me, but someone still has to make the trade. Jus’ this time I didn’t look close enough at the destination, is all. You can bet I won’t be doin’ that again. Nervouser than a long-tailed cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs ‘till I saw you jump in.”

She seemed to sag a little – then straighten, like she was steeling herself for something.

“But listen, thanks. I know I shoot a lot o’ hot air from time to time, an’ I know I ain’t always the nicest to be around. Comes with livin’ on my own so long. Ain’t never been so scared as I was when them boys surrounded me and started shootin’. Callin’ for help don’t come easy, neither. Had to rely on myself for so long, I ain’t used to it.”

She looked me straight in the eye, and held contact – something she hadn’t done all the time we’d been here.

“I owe you my life, hotshot. Again. You’re kinda makin’ a habit of it. Somehow, when I saw you arrive, I knew I was gonna be OK. Even with all them odds against us, I knew I’d get out. Is that weird? Never trusted in anyone like that, not since my ol’ man up an’ left me all them jazuras ago back in Treasure Chest. Feels good, ya know? Good to know someone’s watchin’ over me. You’re a good man, Scott Danna. Don’t let nobody tell you otherwise. Specially not your own self.”

When I got back to the ship, I realised someone did think otherwise. There was a mail waiting, from Farnsworth Financial Holdings. It was terse, and a little indistinct. A good threatening letter.

Code: Select all

Mr. Danna,

You are currently in breach of our agreement.  We must remind you that loans made by this company are secured on your property and person.  Please ensure you make all efforts to make your outstanding payments of 300,000Cr. as soon as possible.  

Should you be unable or unwilling to do so we would, regrettably, be forced to act.

D. Farnsworth

If he only knew I had not just the 300,000 but the entire outstanding balance… Still, I had his attention at least. I just had a few more preparations to make. He could wait, after the next letter I’d call him for a meeting. Or at least, tell him where and when he could find me. Does it still count as an ambush if you know you’re going to be in an inferior position? I had other worries, though – if he went after Val she wouldn’t have a clue what he was there for. And, after what he’d done to Sarma, I wasn’t going to take any risks. After all, Val might kill him first, and that was simply unacceptable...