The Wheel Keeps Turning - Death of Salomé from the perspective of Dark Wheel 6

He stood hovering over his primary control console impatiently slamming on the frame-shift drive engage button. Thanks to whatever imperfections had come along with this ship, a half-hour journey had turned into more than an hour and a half journey.

This was useless. The Dark Wheel wasn’t going to be pleased if Salomé died right there in 46 Eridani, because her duplicate wasn’t able to make it in time. He was about 4 jumps out in his cherry red Imperial Clipper that was rather conveniently dubbed “Seven Veils” and a transponder that was squawking “Salomè”.

The guy I compensated for this transponder couldn’t even pay enough attention to put the right accent over the ‘e’? No time for these thoughts now though.

It was now 1800 Universal Standard Time, and the frame-shift drive was nearing the end of a five minute spool cycle. The FSD spun, whirring as the ship’s voice counted down. The ships lights flickered from the power drain. The bright red circle illuminated on his console once again he slammed down on it producing a louder ‘clap’ from his open hand against the console than had ever been produced by any applause he had afforded anyone, and was immediately followed by blackness. Everything had shutdown, again. He kicked something hard, ignoring the pain as the ship booted back up.

The comm panel sequence finished booting first. He was listening to the secure channel that Salomé was using to coordinate with her escorts and fleet commanders.

“…and jumping.” Salomé said.

Hell!

The Galmap finished it’s boot cycle next. Raan Corsen was already well on his way, and would be out of reach by the time this malfunctioning clipper would be booted. This decoy was supposed to be with him, getting extra eyes on so the word would get out about Salomé’s location – well at least about her false location. Seems like Salomé was running a bit late.

He heard Children of Raxxla’s Dagger force coordinating comms furiously. CMDRs Deltacentauri, and Moodyman were doing the bulk of the leading of the Dagger forces. Looking at their locations on the Galmap he punched the comms “Stay within 50 lightyears of Salomé – if she gets into trouble you need to be able to respond”. The Scouts were fanned out appropriately ahead of the main envoy led by CMDR Ornas Diehl and the Shield’s forces were also out in force, led by CMDR Baroness Galaxy who was performing in an exemplary fashion.

At this point all had reported various ship malfunctions, but were pressing on regardless. He missed it. The opportunity to really draw attention from the starting system was a key factor in his plan to draw attention from Salomé, and he had missed it.
Get back on track and stay focused! What options are there now? I can try to catch up with Raan Corsen’s group and gain that visibility back hopefully drawing away more enemies. From Salomé’s real route. Alright – on it!

He brought the ship around and started spooling up, the real Salomé had already made it several jumps.
At least she’s moving quickly, that’s good.

“…I’m getting interdicted!” He deciphered from the battle comms and threw his ship off of the jump target at the last second. A quick glance at the map verified she was only one jump from him at this point.

We determined the earliest and latest parts of the route were the highest risk…

He re-plotted his course for Salomé’s beacon and engaged. Light spiraled for longer than usual – what seemed like an eternity of seconds, and he landed in system with Salomé.

Salomé and her escorts were handling the confrontation well from what it sounded like on the comms – but no need for them to get reinforcements. He spun the decoy ship wildly around the sun aiming for the largest concentrations of players, and became the proud recipient of an interdiction tether in seconds. Veins in his forearm pulsing against the strain, he plotted a course for a system that would lead them away from the direction the real Salomé was heading. Managed to break free of this tether and then high-waked immediately. Doubling back on his course he flew parallel to the real Salome’s route. A few scattered pilots here and there, but no more than 2 or 3 in a system as he paralleled her route.

Spurious cheers in local, “Go Salomé, Go!” and “Hail Salomé!” were sent after his cherry red decoy.
Monitoring Salomé’s progress on his battle map, he saw that she’d been in system for too long, and brought his clipper about.
“…Modules are damaged …AFMU is almost out of materials – this is the last of it.”

The ploy was to divert enemies away from her, but some enemies seemed to be following her regardless. She must not have purged her transponder list – or someone loaded a backup state.

“Damn it all!”

If her enemies are tracking her, then they will see what system she’s in regardless of how much publicity I steal. They will be the real threat, and that leaves me only one choice.


“Let’s see if we can take off some of the heat.”

His current system void of fellow commanders, he veered to intercept Salomé’s next system.

Now about half-way through the route, Salomé had suffered several interdictions and module damage from deep scooping too often for minimal out-of-witch space exposure in systems.

“Let me take some of the heat off of you.”

Salomé low waked to avoid detection.

“Hey – focus your attention on me” He declared in the solitude of his cockpit.

Almost in response, an interdiction tether initiated from one of the numerous ships behind him. He struggled against it, but whoever this pilot was, they were good. Flung into a flat-spin as his Seven Veils exited Super-Cruise. A commander, piloting a Viper Mk III ordered in all capital letters via text, “COMMANDER SALOMÉ, POWER DOWN YOUR ENGINES AND SURRENDER”.

Well… I could pretend to surrender and let them think they’ve gotten her. How long would it take that news to spread... how long would it take them to figure out I’m a fake. Would I be able to catch-up and continue providing a diversion for the real Salomé if I did surrender now? How much risk would she still be in?


Numerous variables spun through his head as he planned his next course of action. He had already aligned to the next system in his route which would be away from Salomé’s next system. He slowed his throttle to zero while the Viper Mk III circled his Clipper. His FSD had almost finished it’s cool-down cycle. He knew there were thousands of pilots out there right now continuing to hunt Salomé and the fact that her transponder beacon was still active would give him away as a fake as soon as she left the system.

“FSD is spooling up” he heard Salomé say over comms.

If they were going to scan his wake hoping to track her before her transponder reported she was in a different system on the GalMap, he needed to jump now. If he died, she would be the only Salomé in each system for the remaining half of the trip. There is no way news would spread of his death as Salomé to the thousands of other Commanders who were out there hunting her before it became obvious she was still alive. He made the call and charged his FSD.

“SHUT DOWN YOUR FSD NOW!” stated the pilot of the Viper Mk III as he opened fire.

The viper pilot was too late, however. The Clipper shot from zero meters per second to about 500 meters per second in less than a second. Reaching terminal velocity as the FSD charged, his Clipper high-waked.

He plotted another fake jump as he arrived in system and the rest of the route to run parallel to Salomé.

This occurred several times. Salomé would land in a system with multiple hostiles and he jumped in to draw as much attention as possible. An anaconda later in the route got his Clipper down to 50% hull. He was happy to hear one of their allies feeding an intel report stating that Salomé was down to 50% hull.

“Well, seems like the person who hacked the transponder isn’t the only one who couldn’t tell the difference between the accents above the ‘e’ in Salomé. Good.”

Having been interdicted numerous times (times he counted as attempts that the real Salomé was saved from) and only 6 jumps away from their final destination he believed that they just might make it after all.

Then the call came across the Command & Control comms from Salomé. “I’m being interdicted by Harry---”
Isaiah Evanson from Loren’s Legion nav-locked her, but due to a computer malfunction or possibly electronic warfare his ship was dropped .67 light seconds from her.

“Get back to Anumclaw! She’s been interdicted!” He yelled out over comms.
Many others were attempting to locate her. Navigations systems unable to find her low-wake
“What sort of electronic warfare is this? A system that can mask a low-wake?”

Isaiah Evanson had tried to supercruise and nav-lock her again, but his ship was stuck in some sort of blue, swirling suspension field that was apparently designed to stall him from reaching her aid.

After initiating FSD low-wake and supercruise procedures multiple times he swore… “Damnit! Computer recalibrate the goddamned nav systems already – we need to find that wake!”

“My shields are down--- I’m trying to shake him--- mass-locked---“

The unmistakable sound of air whooshing followed by silence is the last noise that was heard from the Seven Veils communications systems. He watched as her blip disappeared from the GalMap.

Her wing members spoke, “She’s… she’s dead…”

He slammed his fist down against his console. Sweat beads splashing against the console like the blood of so many other commanders this evening.

“Why? WHY couldn’t they have picked me again! WHY? I’m the decoy damnit! It was supposed to be me not her!”



Still in normal space, he slumped against the bulkhead. He notified those he was responsible for, “She’s dead… Salomé is down.” Recognition that the other VIPs made it was of some consolation. At least her death wasn’t for nothing.

She wasn’t a terrorist. She wasn’t anything that any of those GalNet articles had said about her. She had a heart for the people and for humanity. She wanted the truth to get out, and thanks to her it would. He had met her. They had helped each other …and now she was dead.

He sat there, slumped against the bulkhead for a while. Drifting in regular space.

...

After hours of searching, he located her wrecked ship. Her body drifting far away from it. His Clipper approached and locked on to them as he scooped up her remains.
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Console!

A Consul is:

"An official appointed by a state to live in a foreign city and protect the state's citizens and interests there."
 
<<Begin recording>>
30APR3303 // TIONISLA


She's dead. I saw it happen with my own two eyes. I was so close, but I got there too late.

I tried to exact vengeance on her killer, but he remained too far for me to do any good.

We - my fellow wingmen - carried out her final instructions. For that, we were directed to Teorge, where there were logs...

And now I'm sitting here, next to this old junked-out Cobra. The Cor Meum et Animam. My heart and soul. And I'm just thinking here... because I feel close. Close to something. A ghost, maybe.

The Cor Meum belonged to an old woman named Rebecca, so I'm told. I don't know how they met, but they knew each other. That's why Kahina left. That's why she turned her back on the Empire - hell, the whole galaxy - and went in search of the truth.

She followed Rebecca's trail to the Formidine Rift. Oddly enough, the Heart and Soul nebulae are out there. She found something, and came back to civilization to warn us.

But just as she arrived, she was silenced. They didn't want her secrets getting out. But... you know what they say. Can't stop the signal.

The logs...

The truth.

Kahina died to ensure that her associates could make known what she found. What they found.

It seems my suspicions were proven to be correct. It's not just a conspiracy theory anymore, it's fact. We're all being manipulated. The wars and rumors of wars? Lies. Fabrications. Whoever is pulling the strings... they've elevated themselves as humanity's "protectors." They're preparing for something, and I fear that something is now on our doorstep.

I can't go back to Prism. I knew what I was doing when Cornelius approached me with the proposal. Cuthrick knew as well that there was no coming back from where I was going. I accept that. But my heart breaks... I can't go home.

But knowing what I know now, how could I?

I can't pretend that everything is fine. I can't go back to Chione and just accept what I've seen and not do something about it. If there's one thing Irena taught me before she passed away, it was that I had an obligation to do something about what I found objectionable.

She would've been proud, I imagine. And it's with her in mind that I'm making a choice to follow Kahina's lead.

Kahina...

I'm sorry. I couldn't save you, but I found what it was you were trying to reveal to the galaxy. I'm spreading the word. I'll find a way.

And I will remember you, Kahina.

So... what happens now?

I left instructions with a friend. There's some secrets of my own that need to be revealed. Tenim is going to get his just desserts, one way or the other. Cait... well, I'm leaving something for her too. It'll be on her to decide what to do with it.

I miss her.

This friend of mine - he's something else. My shadow, perhaps. And I, his. I don't doubt that he'll do what I asked of him.

As for me - I'm heading to Maia. Hearing reports of attacks from some unknown force. Rumors are swirling that the big battle between the Federation and the Empire might be a ruse.

Only one way to find out.

<<End recording>>
 
Console!

A Consul is:

"An official appointed by a state to live in a foreign city and protect the state's citizens and interests there."

You could still hover over your primary consul if you wanted to; depends on your bridge arrangement. >___>

On topic, this is the best bit of drama to come out of this whole affair, nicely done OP.
 
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