Downward spiral

[Bzek]

Hello fellow Commanders!

I am writing a small story from my pilot's perspective, with a few cameos and collaborative writing from other players that I interact with. I will be adding the entries in chapter format, and cover a few stories of what happens in game narratively. Hope you enjoy it. Comments and feedback welcome. I will try to index the chapters in a central post here so they're easy to find between comments.

Signed,

CMD Bzek


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After what had seemed hours of confinement in the small holding cell, enjoying the company of two small chairs that were right out of a chiropractor's nightmare and an aluminium table that was so minimalistic that it was almost artistic, someone finally came in to give him the good news.

"Count Bzek. You are in deep trouble." he said with a dry voice that sounded as though it had come out from pinched nostrils rather than from anyone's vocal cords.

The man walked toward the opposite side of the table and threw dataslate to slide towards Dominik's side. He stopped there, staring, in what had to be a rehearsed menacing pause. After he deemed it sufficiently suspenseful, he finally undid the buttons of his deep blue jacket to let it part over his shirt and tie he finally sit down. He remained silent, glaring across with what was surely meant to be chilling-to-the-bone menace. Dominik picked the dataslate and glanced over the glowing content for the best part of five seconds before dropping it back down on the table with a metallic clatter. It was full of information that meant nothing to him. Numbers, percents, and his name was at the top.

"So you're going to pay me for damages, right?" Dominik asked, reaching up with his finger and picking at a small scab that had formed where his cheekbone had struck the dash of his ship at the time of collision.

"The data you have in front of you is the results of your medical examination." he stated, rather than responding directly. He was without a doubt a bureaucrat of some shape or form. The boring cut of his dark jacket, impossibly tidy tie and neatly combed hairstyle said it clearly. This man cared nothing about flair.

"Yeah, exactly. Damages. I got a piece of plastic inside my nostril holding the shape of my nose in place. Literally." Dominik replied, figuring that the data he had been an assessment of how much they owed him. On top of the insurance payoff from his ship. He would be sitting in a very comfortable sum of credits soon enough. Maybe enough to retire. Not that he wanted to retire. He liked to think he was still to young for that.

"Your blood alcohol levels were 1.23. The doctors were actually surprised you were alive." the bureaucrat pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose.

"So what? Alcohol is not illegal in Imperial space." Dominik snorted, shrugged, and slumped back against his chair.

"No, it is not. However, are you aware that the legal limit for flying under the influence of alcohol is 0.10?" the man arched his thin brow to a curve sharp enough that almost hid under his side-swept fringe.

Dominik was of course aware of it, but if the station's representative was being coy about getting to the point he figured he could respond in kind by being dense about it.

"So you're going to fine me? That's what this is all about? Alright, just dock your fees from whatever you owe me. No biggie. I want to stay in good terms with the fine people of Helin Terminal." Dominik pursed his lips, willing to at least concede that. He was aware that crashing an Anaconda against a station's wall at booster speed would case grievous damages to the station too. Not only to his nose.

"No. We informed the Pilot Federation of this, and they have agreed only to pay off the minimal bracket of six-hundred thousand credits. Needless to say you are not entitled to any compensation for damages to your own person. That was, entirely, your fault." he said it with such venomous satisfaction that it took everything for Dominik not to reach over and punch him in the face. Which he might have done, if his other hand wasn't cuffed to the chair.

Taking an Anaconda and loading it with near five hundred tons of gold to sell at that port. Which would have been a nice payoff, and enough to cover insurance, if he hadn't decided to start celebrating on board before he actually landed his new ship.

"The sum covers part of the damages, your savings and the Commander you contacted was able to cover the difference, but I am afraid that is as much as it will pay for. The good news are... as you are not in debt you won't have to sell yourself into slavery to stay financially afloat. Congratulations."

 

[Bzek]

They had got him out of the holding cell kicking and screaming, and he now was sporting a shiner along with a broken nose. He had been charged with assault and fined some more. That was no matter. He had been beaten worse. Take the crippling financial losses away and this was a regular night out for him.

At least he had managed to cool down somewhat, and moved on from blinding fury to agonizing despair. He felt it in the pit of his gut. A hollow, acidic feeling that no amount of whiskey was washing away.

"Hey, thanks for coming." Dominik said as he saw the platinum blonde sit across him. He hadn't seen her in a while, since she had been out charting unknown regions of space, but he was in luck that she had been close enough to civilized space to get his message by the time he was released. Else he would be in some cargo container by now, being shipped off somewhere to serve.

"I'd offer you a drink, but I'm not sure I can even afford this one."

He lifted his crystal tumbler indicatively, the ice cubs clinking against the sides as he shook it, right before he downed the remaining amber contents down in a single gulp.

"You're terrible. Two-million credit bail? That's a third of what I made in the last three weeks." Zeneviev looked at him with a mix of fury and pity. She almost felt cruel enough not to slide him the metal thermos of coffee she had brought. Almost. She rolled it across to him forcefully enough to be considered a throw.

"Never again. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah. Next time I will sell myself to some pretty thing that doesn't give me instead." Dominik huffed, grabbing the thermos and opening it. After sniffing into it and discovering it was coffee rather than something alcoholic he raised up his eyes at her and arched a brow inquisitively.

"Say, speaking of which, weren't you looking for a foot slave? Is that still a thing?"

During a long trip they had, she had mentioned how she had planned to buy a slave just to give her foot rubs during those long haul missions they sometimes ran together to share profits. It was presumably a joke, but as desperate and strapped for cash as he was he just had to try. There were far worse ways to get back up on his feet and he might just have to resort to them if he wanted to get out of Helin Terminal.

"I wasn't serious, besides, I can't afford a slave. I spent all of my money bailing out an ungrateful drunk." Zeneviev bristled at his attitude, standing up.

"So, rather than give you I'm going to try to get my money back. Emperor knows I won't be getting it from you. You'll drink and crash it all away again."

"Alright, alright... sorry. Listen." Dominik licked his lips, pausing for a moment looking up at her apologetically. She hadn't deserved that outburst and he knew it, but she had been the first person she had talked since they let him out of the holding station. Temperance wasn't one of his qualities and he was having one of the worst days of his life.

"I'll pay you back. I'll pay you double. Within the month. Alright? You know I can move credits pretty fast."

That much was at least true. He took extremely risky decisions, and tied himself to enterprises that most pilots would see as too much of a chance, but more often than not it paid off. More than once he had landed with a shattered canopy to cash in a large sum of bounties or war bonds. It was how he had managed to get himself that shiny new ship.

"I just need a small loan to get myself up on my feet. Say, maybe forty grand?"

Zeneviev covered her face with her hands, taking a breath and restraining herself from kicking the chair she'd left out at him. Finally she dropped her hand, crossing it with the other.

"Yeah, fine. Make it sixty so you can afford insurance but so help me if you spend the excess on booze I'll hunt you down and blow you up myself." Angry as she was at the moment she might have even meant it.

"Nope, you won't regret it." Dominik jumped to his feet, and before he even had processed it he had bear-hugged her and lifted her up her feet. After giving her a couple of spins, he brought her down again.

"You're the only good news I have got in this miserable day. I knew you would come through. We cover each other's back, right?"

To be fair, he had never had to help her financially but he had helped her get into a few good bounties alongside him for a hefty share of the profit, and taught her a few combat tricks that had come handy against pirates when crossing dangerous space. His own military and mercenary experience had taught him more than a handful of dirty tricks on how to come on top of most combat situations.

"Oof. Yes, we do. I'm really more angry about your crash.. one day you're going to kill yourself, or someone else. All it takes is not hitting eject quick enough." She took a deep breath once released, his grip on her tight enough to keep her from getting a full lung of air.

"Yeah, I didn't eject. I blacked out after I hit my face to the dash. Ship automated systems got me out though. Woosh! All good." Dominik said as he straightened her dress and her hair.

"I'll go get the credits transferred over so you can get a ship." Zeneviev responded dully. As though she might just change her mind.

"I owe you. Big time. I'll take you out somewhere nice once I get myself back on my feet, alright? It won't take long. I still have the Heartbreaker docked in Rauta. Remember her?"

The Heartbreaker was his long time gal. An Asp kitted for less-than-legit sort of business. It wasn't his main vessel, but the one he used when he needed to do things he wasn't entirely proud of but that he would do anyway. Now it was his only ship.

"I'll be gone a while anyway, I'm going to the core to go play tag with the supermassive blackhole." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, "It's where I zip in REALLY close and when everything goes all twisty I see if I can still get out. There's no eject button for a blackhole but it's good fun. Then I think I'll follow the Perseus arm back home."

She tucked her hair back behind her ears, taking a step back. "So in a month or three, you can take me somewhere nice. As long as you're sober."

"Yeah, you know what? Screw this place. I think I'll grab the Heartbreaker and set out myself. I always wanted to do the whole spiral of Orion out to the core. Put my name on a few planets. Hey, maybe I'll see you there at the galactic core." Dominik grinned at her.

In all truth he had always preferred sticking to civilized space, but after this failed enterprise his morale was shattered. He had lost so much with that crash, that he felt almost as though he just would stop trying to get back up. Maybe some time away from civilization was just way to clear his head and get himself back in shape.

"Good place for a party, right?"