[IC] Stories of War and Peace

[RCKJD]

[ooc: Tell us what your Commander is doing at this time of strive and civil war. Is he/she a valiant freedom fighter or more a champion for order and law? Or maybe an opportunistic scoundrel or a cautious trader?]

Aulin Enterprise, Crazed Wombat Bar and Grill.

The young pilot sat at a table, alone. His remlok suit was hidden under a stained medium grey jumpsuit and an old leatherjacket was over that, retro chic really. The drink in front of him was non-alcoholic as it was his norm. While he didn't begrudge other pilots the occasional drink, he himself never got into the habit himself. The last time he actually tried something like that he did enjoy the taste, but hated the buzz in his temples. It reminded him too much of his migraines.
Right now he just sat there, looking at his glass and thinking his thoughts. Most of it was about the current conflict in Eranin. The net was abuzz with propaganda and vitriol launched from both sides, trying to cajole the undecided into joining the fight on the side of the righteous and just. The trouble was, both sides claimed this title of course. And like many of his fellow pilots he had been pulled in, also by both sides.
At first he blew up some Federation Fighters, but then he blew up some Eranin Defense Force ships, until he finally realized that it might be best to just stay out of it. After all, while he did love freedom and the likes, he was also a Citizen of the Federation, born and raised on Mars.
With a sigh he finished his carbonated beverage and for a moment thought about getting another one. In the end he decided against it, as the shift from simulated gravity to zero grav would just make the contents of his stomach float and would quite likely make him vomit at the slightest provocation. But such was the life of a space trader, lots of missed drinks and full barf bags.

 

[Guy DudeBroMan]

3300-09-27:18:48.27
Grid -18,18,05
LHS 417, Gernhardt's Camp

There was something about backwater Coriolises that annoyed Jason Denton. Was it the power rationing, making the place seem gloomy and slightly musty all the time? Was it the lack of traffic, adding to the air of 'nobody will notice if you drop off the map?' Was it the second- and third-rate equipment they were forced to make do with in the docks?

Jason leaned on the railing of an elevated catwalk, bristling protectively as he watched a trio of gruff colonials stomping up and down Verðandi's dorsal hull plating, groping and prodding and banging her wounds with ball-peen hammers.

No. It's definitely the people, he decided. Every time he left the beaten path, he was struck flat in the nose by the revelation that, while some people chose to forego the delights of civilization in favor of wide open space, just as many were practically exiled by civilization because they simply couldn't--or wouldn't--fit in anywhere else.

Most of those ended up in places like this.

Verðandi was in rough shape. Burns blackened and blistered the paint in patches that gouged deeply enough to slag the plating clear through. But that was hardly a blemish compared to the ten-meter-wide bite that had been chomped, practically, out of the starboard side's leading edge, as if the Cobra had been a cookie for some leviathan. What was left of the starboard retro thruster leaked corrosive crystal-metallic coolant and vented gas from a set of ruined valves. A particularly nasty patch of destruction had burned deep into the upper surface, consuming the starboard-side thermal exchange radiators and exposed the spaceframe, which is what finally put an end to his frantic sprint from the war zone.

Thank you, Faulcon deLacy engineers, for the double-redundant life support systems.

Jason's eyes twitched when his Chatter beeped, lighting up his pocket. He didn't bother looking at it--the technicians were clustered in a huddle, comparing notes and climbing, one by one, down a service ladder, clearly bringing their assessment to a close. He jogged down the thin metal staircase to the ground level of the hanger, weaving through a dozen holo-adverts before he found the bay's crew chief. Rene Striggs was a grizzled sixty-something with too-pale skin and a way of moving, slouching and sluggish, that was common amongst people who spent most of their adult lives in low-gravity, finding Earth Standard to be uncomfortable and burdensome.

"It could be worse, Doctor," the Rene reported, reading over her report. "Parts are cheap--we should have most of what we need on-hand, and the frame wasn't too badly damaged." She looked over her shoulder at a thick coating of carbon blackening the cargo bay hatch. "We'll need to pull the starboard drive system and re-build the thermals, but 'snakes' are pretty resilient. I figure...a week, maybe 12 days. Ten-thousand, rough estimate, though we won't know for sure till we get inside."

Jason ground his teeth loudly, but nodded his head, however reluctant. Stiggs was a friend of the family, and, more importantly, was the kind of tech traders loved--direct, no nonsense, fast, and blessed with just enough skill to get the job done without breaking the bank. He'd come quite a bit out of his way to get here, but Jason had a (sometimes expensive) preference to deal with people he knew over people he didn't, and his 'usual' stops were all too close to the fighting.

Rene handed him the data pad with the billing estimate, and he numbly entered his information and signed off on the work order. The money wasn't an issue so much as an inconvenience.

Jason blinked, confused, at the expression on the woman's face when he handed her pad back to her. "I said, 'was it pirates?'"

"As far as I'm concerned," Jason grumbled. "Eranin Security."

"The war?" The woman's mouth screwed up in distaste. "That's fifteen light-years from here--"

"Seventeen," Jason corrected her.

"Just like your uncle," she said in a chastising tone. "Think you can fly anything. Next time, don't push your luck so hard. You could have been stranded out there, huh? And....Whatever they're paying, it isn't worth your life, getting tangled up in business like what they're doing out there."

"I'm not my uncle," Jason told her through a thin film of anger. "I'm a scientist, not a mercenary. I wasn't even IN the war zone. At least, it wasn't one until now."

Rene looked at him, curious.

"I was in iBootis, in orbit above Chango, when a wing flying E.S. IDs dropped out and started attacking a Fed patrol ship that was nearby. Then they started attacking any other poor schmuck that happened to be around. I figured they were moving to blockade the Dock, or, if they didn't, then the Feds would lock it down anyway. So I decided to take my chances. Four light-years wasn't outside of the war zone, apparently, so I pushed as far as I thought I could get away with. Good thing the fuel scoop still worked."

The pale woman blanched. "Has it really gotten that bad?"

Jason shrugged noncommittally. "It's been simmering for a couple months, now, even if the news hasn't been reporting it. It's mostly been catspaws--mercs and pirates going in, paid under the table, to scuttle civilians and stir the pot, security services doing lots of stop-and-searches and blasting anyone that has so much as a whiff of 'the other side' on them, and Pilot's Federation members fighting on both sides while the Feds and the Eranin enjoy plausible deniability. Now that it's official, it's gotten more manic, and with the traffic hunkering down, the market is also being frozen-out."

"Well..." the woman hesitated, not sure what to say. "I'll get the crew started. There may not be much to do, here, while you wait, but at least you don't have to worry about people shooting. Nothing out here to get worked up enough to shoot about, anyway."

As he watched the woman walk away and start barking orders at her underlings, Jason headed for Verðandi's nose gear and climbed the ladder to get an overnight bag.

These days, he thought, cynically, to himself, people don't seem to need much reason.

 

[Momoka Azuka]

"War was good for business." that was the last thing I could remember my eldest brother saying to me before shoving me into the pilot's chair of the Shattered Dreams. It was a beat up old Cobra that he always forced me to use when smuggling guns to the Eranins. But I didn't mind the old gal, she was one of the few things our father promised me I'll have one day. I was his princess after all.
"Make sure my contact gets those out as quickly as possible. We need that money if we're going to make a move in the Aulin system." He echoed.
"Is that all you care about? I'm still outgunned here."
The ship only had 2 class 2 multicannons. Jin stupidly lost the pulse lasers I had stolen in a card game. Clearly my safety wasn't on his mind seeing I'm the only one who ever flies this ship.
"You'll be fine. Just keep clear of the wazone and you'll be ok."
"Nee-Chan... the whole system's a warzone."
"You worry to much, Momoka. Besides, war is good for business."
"Whatever. If I die I'm going to kill you."
Jin simply laughed as he left the cockpit probably thinking I was joking. At the time I was. But just a few hours later, those words came back to hunt me.
__________
3300-10-10 : 11:38
Eranin System, Azeban City

I had just undocked from the station and cleared the city's No Fire Zone when I noticed what looked to be a ship ahead of me. I checked my radar and found no signs of a ship in that direction and continued to make my way out of the system. I then checked the radar again and realized there wasn't a single ship on it, which was strange because the security vessels should be there but weren't. I felt nervous and sent full power to the engines, changing my course as well from Aulin to I Bootis. "Crap, it's behind the planet." I thought as I attempted to lineup for the jump to hyperspace.
My change of course must have drew some attention because sure enough six contacts appeared on the radar. I quickly Identified my targets, a Sidewinder, 2 Cobra, 2 Vipers, and an Anaconda all flashing Federation IDs.
I deployed weapons and turned straight for them. Chango was out of the question with my position for a jump. The conda had the retreat to Azeban blocked and trying for supercruise was pointless with the Vipers as close as they were. I needed to get passed the other 3 and jump for Aulin.
The Vipers were the first to open fire and I quickly realized I was in real trouble when I lost a full ring on the shields. I returned fire and started to put up a decent fight. For awhile the Vipers couldn't get another shot on me, suddenly the Sidewinder made its presence known by putting 2 beam lasers on my backside. Before I knew it the 3 took down my shields and started to work on my hull.
In a panic I broke away from those 3 only to run straight for the waiting Cobras, who hit me with a few muticannon rounds. My own weapons started to misfire and several systems were damaged in the burst. I started to spin the ship around trying to make myself as hard a target to hit as possible but it was no use. Five fighters started to shred my beloved Cobra, various systems going offline or misbehaving in the onslaught.
As a warring of my Frame Shift Drive malfunctioning flash on the display and part of the overhead controls on the cockpit blew, hitting me in the face and braking my visor, the thought of my death began to appear in my head. Suddenly several railgun blast flew past my beaten vessel striking the Cobras. I look up to see another Anaconda and two more Vipers engaging my attackers.
My Frame shift Drive managed to come back to life just as 3 more Eranin ships dropped out of Supercruise. "Thank God!" I shouted aloud and Charged the damaged drives, still having Aulin locked, and making the jump to hyperspace.
After making it to Aulin Enterprises, I made what had to be the worse landing I had ever attempted, skidding across the pad and coming to a stop at a weird angle just as my portside thruster burst into flames. The rescue team rushed aboard the broken Shattered Dreams to find me unconscious bleeding heavily from my left eye. Just before I blacked out I could hear Jin's words echo. "War is good for business..."

 

[Momoka Azuka]

After days of searching, Jin discovered the Shattered Dreams ID number registered at one of Aulin's repair stations. Realizing his sister was indeed still alive, he relaxed slightly before contacting one of his many servants. Jin was a pirate like our father. He built onto our families reputation as a band of pirates terrorizing the federation under the banner THE TEN SWORDS. As a result of my brother's business, he had many men and women working for him. His connections reached nearly across all of known space. That said, in the federation at least, he is a highly known criminal wanted 45 different systems. So operating himself was quite risky. So undoubtedly he would send one of his lackeys to my aid. No way he'd move my dad's old Anaconda just to check on me, who was probably dead in fed space anyway. As expected, he ordered one of his men to find me and keep an eye on me and the ship until I could return.

I awoke in a hospital bed with an IV strapped to my arm and a heavily bandaged eye. Sunlight crept through the window of the brightly lit room indicating it was well beyond morning. I sat up slowly, barely able to move as if my body hadn't been moved in awhile. My memory was fuzzy. I had know clue where I was or how I got there. I reached up to scratch my head and grazed the bandage over my eye, the pain was still fresh. The memories of the battle then began to flood my mind and panic began to return as well. "I nearly died..." I said aloud as the panic began to subside. "Yes you nearly did." a voice rang out to my blind side. I turned sharply to see the the man my brother sent.

Vince was an old friend, his father was forced into slavery that escaped his captures and joined my father on his reign. Vince however was not like most of the thugs that followed my brother's lead. He was more kind-hearted and hard working, only taking on jobs that didn't require someone being robbed at gunpoint. He was one of the few among the Ten Swords I actually liked.
"How long was I out?"
"Nearly a month. Are you alright, Princess?"
"I think so, my eye hurts. A lot."
"You were found unconscious. You remember what happened?"
The flashes of the battle returned.
"An ambush. Well more of a blockade I think. The station was being blockaded by a pack of fed ships. Five or six of them jumped me. I can't really remember how I got out of there."
"Doesn't matter. The important thing is you did and you're safe."
"How'd you find me?"
"Jin. One of his contacts found your Cobra's ID number here. From there all I had to do is ask around about an Imperial woman with Pink hair. You might want to consider a normal color Dye."
We both chuckled.
"Well I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Nee-Chan. Speaking of... where..."
"He can't risk coming to see you. I don't know if you remember but you're at Aulin. Federation space."
"Right. He can't risk it but I can risk running weapons to a warzone in an outdated and under-armed ship to fund his latest suicide mission."
"Momoka..."
"I know. Gomen Nasai."
"No need to be sorry. You need to rest. I'll be back to check in. I need to report to your brother on your condition."
"Right. I'm just glad he sent you and not one of his other goons."

Vince winked and smiled at me before walking out the door. I lied back staring at the ceiling, touching the bandage again. I wondered just what did I do to end up with such a life. I then thought about my Cobra and thought 'Maybe she's my answer.' I turn over and closed the one eye I could and slowly drifted off to sleep.