[AP] PRODIGAL SON, A Rogue's Tale - Book II

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Olterin
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Post by Olterin » Sun, 24. Jul 16, 10:43

*Pokes head in*

... Is it here yet? The next installment I mean ;)
"Do or do not, there is no try"
"My Other Overwhelming Mixed Assault Fleet is a Brigantine" -Seleucius, commenting on my ship naming scheme

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Scion Drakhar
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Post by Scion Drakhar » Sun, 24. Jul 16, 23:03

I took a couple weeks off but I am writing once again.

However, if I haven't posted by the end of the month there may be a several week period where I'm completely silent. It all depends on how fast I can get internet set up at the next address. I am moving on August 1st. (Wish me luck.)

Cheers
A Pirate's Story.pdf(KIA) by _Zap _ From Nothing.PDF(complete) by _Zap _ Prodigal Son(active) Original Thread, Prodigal Son_PDF

Triaxx2
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Post by Triaxx2 » Mon, 25. Jul 16, 00:40

Good luck.
A Pirate's Revenge Completed Now in PDF by _Zap_
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016

The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed

Dovie'andi se tovya sagain

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Olterin
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Post by Olterin » Mon, 25. Jul 16, 00:51

Good luck. :)
"Do or do not, there is no try"
"My Other Overwhelming Mixed Assault Fleet is a Brigantine" -Seleucius, commenting on my ship naming scheme

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Zaitsev
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Post by Zaitsev » Mon, 25. Jul 16, 06:30

Good luck, Scion. Hope everything goes well. :)
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am :D

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Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
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Scion Drakhar
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Post by Scion Drakhar » Wed, 27. Jul 16, 20:40

78. One Bad Call


*Ice settles in a glass.*

...

*A lighter sparks.*

Puff! Puff! Hoooo-aah! Yeah.

So today sucked.

...

*Ice settles in a glass.*

...

Before goan' ta sleep last night... or rather, this mornin'. Crap. I don't even know what bloody time it is anymore. Not that it makes a difference. I haven't been planetside since I kidnapped Sin and that was only for a few hours. My circadian rhythms are completely shot to shit.

Right. So... yeah. Before goan' ta sleep I went to see Thane and, well, made sure I wasn't gonna find myself in any... aah... uncomfortable situations as a result of not bein' able to follow through on the 'one a day' nonsense. At least… I hope I did.

********

"You mean he actually did it?!" Gorda asked, wide-eyed with disbelief.

"Aye!" Thane laughed. "He did it. Came right up here in person to make sure I knew it, too." Thane laughed. "He was so tired that I think he fell asleep right there on the couch with my dogs!" Thane laughed. "But aye! He did it."

"Will wonders never cease?" Gorda shook his head. "I didn't think it was possible. I expected that he would show up with a couple thousand units, perhaps a freighter or two, and then try to talk his way out of the hole he'd climbed into. But... an entire TL? He really did it?"

"Aye."

"Where do you suppose this endless supply of nividium is located?"

"No idea," Thane boomed in reply. "But it's not endless. One of the reasons the boy came up here was to clarify his commitment."

"Smart lad."

"Aye," Thane commented shrewdly, "but not smart enough to keep his mouth shut in the first place, now was he?"

"Oh my," Gorda shook his head disapprovingly. "You're not really going to work him, are you?"

"Of course!" Thane bellowed.

"Not too hard, I trust."

"Why the hell not?!"

"Because, Dockmaster," Gorda's tone became patronizing, "this is one young man that you may not want to try taking for a fool. Besides, don't you owe him your life?"

"That's debatable."

"You were in need. You called. He came. What's to debate?"

"I was in need because the assassins sent after him were using me as bait!"

"Who were sent by a vicious reptilian gash who had every intention of skinning you alive and taking your shipyard!"

Thane rolled his eyes.

"All I'm saying, Dockmaster," Gorda nagged, "is don't kill the golden goose." Thane turned a wry eye on the screen. Gorda returned it calmly. "Or piss it off, for that matter," the financial wizard said pointedly.

"Are you saying I should fear him?"

"Fear him?!" the other man was scandalized. "My dear friend, this young man is generating an enormous amount of wealth. He also happens to command what is rapidly becoming a formidable armada, and with the missiles he produces in Weaver's Tempest..."

Thane rolled his eyes.

"I'm saying that it's far better to have a profitable, dangerous man as a friend than an enemy. How large did you say that shipment was?"

"I didn't."

"Then do, please."

"One hauler!" Thane boomed, allowing his annoyance into his voice. "Stuffed to the bloody gills with nividium."

"Which," Gorda inquired, "in real numbers, equals?"

Thane met the other man's eye. He collected an apple from his desk and began polishing it against the shirt stretched over his belly. "Fourteen thousand, two hundred and twenty two containers worth of the stuff."

Mel Gorda's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "Oh my! That," he said, "is a lot of nividium."

"Aye," Thane grinned broadly, "and the boy says he can bring two, maybe three more ship-loads. Perhaps more if he finds more asteroids with traces of the stuff." Thane laughed from his belly. "But he doesn't want me to expect them every day! Haaah! Ha-ha! Says he 'may have' overestimated the yield in the asteroids he's mining!" Thane laughed again, this time hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.

"Two, possibly three more?!" Mel echoed him. The awe in his voice drew Thane's eye again. "Do you really think that's possible?"

Thane took a bite of his apple and let the juice run into his beard. "If," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "you had asked me that yesterday I'd have told you the boy's a fool!" He turned and looked through the window across from him. Six kilometers away an imitation Argon mammoth was mated with his shipyard. "But now?" he asked. He met Gorda's eye again. "At this very moment that boy's ship is docked at my station and there is so much nividium in her hold that it's taken nearly a stazura to unload... and the job is only 'alf done! So aye! Words are one thing, but a ship full of riches? That is something else altogether!"

"So you do believe him?" Mel asked.

Thane looked back at the treasure ship and nodded. "Aye," he rumbled. "I believe him." He looked back at Mel. "He was careful when he spoke. Committing to delivering a capital hauler's worth of the stuff every day?! With no other caveats or conditions? That IS a fool talking. Hell! I didn't think he'd do it even once! But he's useful and I like him. So I thought I'd work him for a bit when he failed just to teach him a lesson. But committing to two, mayhap three more ships, and being clear about when I should expect delivery? With a ship full o' the stuff docked just behind him?! Aye. I think he knows what he's about."

"Good heavens," Mel whispered. "Do you have any idea how much money I can make with that much nividium?"

"I've an idea," Thane rumbled as he turned a shrewd eye on the comm again. "Don't forget my cut."

Mel blinked and stared at Thane indignantly. "Who do you think I am?" he asked.

Thane arched an eyebrow at the epicene man and gave him one of his more dangerous glares.

Mel sputtered. "You," he snapped, "are the greediest man I have ever met."

"I have a large family," Thane told him. "Large families are expensive." He took another bite of the apple and held the other man's eye as he chewed. After a moment Mel gave Thane an arch look of his own.

"You gouged that poor boy for every last credit didn't you?"

"Poor boy?!" Thane replied indignantly. "That man left my station with over a hundred and thirteen million of MY credits!"

"I hope you at least gave him minimum market value?"

Thane glared at the other man's image through the vid com.

"Because I know you made him purchase the ships that you will use to transport said nividium. Am I correct?"

"Aye?" Thane growled.

"So you paid him minimum market value, made him buy the ships for and from you... and now I assume you're making him run errands because he can't possibly deliver a hauler full of nividium every day?"

Thane felt the smirk growing on his face and took another bite of his apple to conceal it. He glared at Gorda as he chewed. "What of it?" he asked.

"And on top of all that you now want thirty five percent of the profits that I will manipulate out of every last economy that I have access to?"

"Of course!" Thane boomed back at him. "It is my nividium, after all!" Thane raised a challenging eyebrow. "Do you have a point, fat man?"

"Only that you are an evil, evil man, Dockmaster." Gorda said. Then he smiled. "And that I admire you."

Thane hid his grin behind another bite of his apple.

********

Puff! Puff!

...

*sigh*


It was odd, you know? I mean I did what I said I was gonna do, and I was also standin' there lookin' him in the eye when I gave him the bad news by tellin' him that I wasn't gonna be able to commit to more than another two or three shipments, and I was expectin' him to take advantage of the situation, which he is, but... I couldn't shake the feelin' that he wasn't anywhere near as angry and disappointed as he seemed to be. I mean don't get me wrong. He let me know that he'd made commitments based on my word and that if I couldn't deliver then he wouldn't be able to keep those commitments, which made him look bad and that lookin' bad, lookin' like he can't keep his promises, is somethin' that he can't allow. It's very bad for him. And I know that's all true. I know it's all true... but I couldn't shake the feelin' that he was tryin' not to laugh.

Yeah…

Anyway, I got what I needed from him, namely the sense that I'm not gonna wake up to find electrodes alligator-clipped to my more sensitive bits while I'm strapped to a chair someplace where no one will ever hear me scream. Once I felt secure in that regard, and I apparently did feel secure. I think I actually fell asleep on his couch. I mean Kao t'Kt was with me so it's not like I was in any real danger, but even so I found that unnervin'. The bloody dogs jumped up and lay down around me, a couple with their heads in my lap while Thane was makin' calls and givin' orders concernin' the nividium, and I just... fell asleep. Not for long but I still nodded off. I woke up when one of Thane's dogs licked my face.

But yeah, all said and done the nividium has been fairly profitable. Thane paid me just a hair shy of eight thousand a unit, which equals a little over a hundred and thirteen million for that shipment. So, now that the minin' fleet is up and runnin', I think I can expect it to provide a nice little boost to my income... for the next few days anyway.

Oddest thing, though; when I was leavin' Thane's apartments I ran into Chinomu.

********

As the Shirubāurufu mated with one of the tower's docking arms Eri decided that she was very pleased with the capabilities of the Hyperion Vanguard. She knew that she'd have to give it back at some point but over the past few days it had enabled her to get a spectacular amount of work done. With it's capacious hold and the nearly endless supply of energy from Drakhar's stations, the Shirubāurufu was able to jump from one side of the gate network to the other and back again without needing to resupply. That, coupled with her access to the man's satellite network, allowed her to not only contact and give orders to ships anywhere in the galaxy, but also allowed her to then jump to any sector, dock with the majority of the company's capital ships, and address problems as they arose. She wondered if it would be possible to simply attach herself to the ship, and thus have access to it even after Gin Ookami returned from the hospital. If not perhaps she could ask her employer to 'acquire' another one for her own use. At this point not having the same level of mobility would be frustrating.

Once the ship was docked she gave orders to the ship's XO and master at arms. Then she disembarked, accompanied by several marines. Marines had been stationed aboard the Shirubāurufu since the attack on Nova Somnia and, as she stepped onto the landing platform she admitted, to herself at least, that she was grateful for their presence. The Yaki shipyard was, for all intents and purposes, a small city. It couldn't rival Terran stations, of course, which were designed for millions of inhabitants, but there were easily tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people aboard the shipyard and most of them were decidedly unsavory. Looking at the assortment of tattoos and body piercings, the wild eyes of undoubtedly drug addled minds, the almost universal presence of personal armament, and the frequent strings of chained slaves being herded with their heads down and spirits broken, and it was easy to imagine how a person could just vanish here. One moment you're walking along. The next you're stuffed into a sack or a cargo container or just dragged down some lonely corridor. Then you're just gone... and God help you. Considering who she was here to see and who she worked for, she was fairly sure that she didn't have to worry about that fate. Even so, she decided, it was good to remember just how far from home she'd drifted.

As she reached the end of the docking arm and stepped onto the station properly she saw that Thane was as gracious a host as always. Several members of his security guard straightened as she approached. They didn't exactly snap to military attention, but it was obvious that they were waiting for her and now that she'd arrived, they were to begin their duties in earnest.

One of them raised his head to greet her. "Cap'n Chee-no-mu?"

"Aye," Eri responded.

"Split is Mo t'Kkt," the guard informed her. "Dockmaster. Said. To escort you. To see him."

She nodded. "Thank you."

It was both a brief and somewhat uncomfortable trip. Thane's apartment was at the very top of the shipyard's central spire, the base of which was nearly a kilometer from the gate where the Shirubāurufu was docked. The majority of that distance was traversed instantly via teleporter. The spire itself, however, was hardened with multiple layers of shielding, making any kind teleportation to it impossible. So Eri and her escort teleported to the base of the tower, then needed to make their way on foot where they repeatedly crisscrossed the tower's enormous lobby in order to ascend the levels from the tower's base to the tower's lifts.

As they made their way Eri noticed the lingering damage from the other day's attack. Workers were busy repairing a large section of the upper level, as well as replacing damaged wall panels, sections of the ascending ramp that had been damaged, and terrifying defense weaponry that was supposed to be hidden within the architecture. It seemed that everywhere she looked there were still scars from high volume repeaters, rocket and railgun propelled grenades, and the occasional disintegrator. Each left it's own distinct wound in the lobby's facade. As she walked it occurred to her that she was following the same path that the attackers had used when they forced their way upward.

You do seem to find yourself at the center of a lot of violence, Drakhar, she thought.

The rest of the trip was a hundred and twenty story ascent, followed by another walk to another lift, during which she witnessed even more damage to the station, as well as several stains that she was sure were caused by human blood, followed by another thirty four story ascent to what the station's staff referred to as "Thane's Holdings", as if he were some kind of feudal lord or something. When she finally stepped off the second lift it was into a large, tasteful space that reminded her of a corporate lobby. Behind a clouded glass wall to her left there was a comfortable meeting room. That space included furnishings made of wood, leather and glass, a polished stone fountain, and a collection of meticulously arranged plants and artwork. Opposite the meeting room was a two level desk designed to accommodate the needs of both a seated receptionist and the standing visitors on the opposite side of the desk. But it was the six man squad of black armored marines that got Eri's attention. She vaguely recognized several of them but the Drakhar Enterprises logo beneath their collars was unmistakable. She'd gotten to the point where she could look at the stylized wolf without rolling her eyes, but only just.

She followed Mo t'Kkt across the lobby. Halfway across the space she noticed that a small section of the polished stone wall beyond the receptionist's desk still bore scarring from being hit by some kind of small arms fire. The stone was cracked from several impacts, very close together, resulting in a pair of overlapping spider-web patterns of predominantly white fractures. In places, though, that pattern was still stained a dark reddish brown. Just then the hatch leading to Thane's apartment opened. A moment later Drakhar stepped through it, flanked by another five of his marines, including Kao t'Kt, his giant Split bodyguard.

Her immediate impression was that the man was ill or hung over. His color was off. He seemed ever so slightly unsteady on his feet. There were heavy bags under his eyes, one of which, the real one, was bloodshot. As she looked at him the man's eyes fell on her and narrowed. A moment later he was striding across the polished marble floor toward her.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

He briefly looked her up and down, then grunted a reply. A moment later he glanced at the crowd around them, then noticed the meeting room before looking at her again. "Come with me," he said and led her into the meeting room. After closing the door behind her he met her eye again. "What are you doing here?" he asked quietly.

She scoffed and shook her head. "You still don't trust me."

"Considering your position in the fleet, and the access you have to my resources, I'd argue that I trust you quite a bit. Now, would you please tell me what you're doin' here?"

"I came to see Thane."

He nodded. "Any particular reason why?"

"Seldon told me about the art and books he'd lost. As a fellow appreciator of art and history I wanted to offer him my sympathy. Why does it matter?"

Drakhar nodded, then took a breath. He closed his eyes and then seemed to come close to losing his balance.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"Just exhausted," he said and met her eye again. "I haven't been sleepin'."

She arched an eyebrow. "There's a lot of that going around."

He squinted at her for a moment, then sighed. "Just remember that Thane's not part of the crew," he said. "He's an ally, but he's got his own agenda."

"I'm not spying for him, if that's what you're worried about."

"No," he said, "I'm not… just, how's that old saw go? Loose lips sink ships? Thane doesn't need to know where the minin' fleet is or how it's set up or… well, he doesn't need to know much of anythin' regardin' how we do things. Alright?"

"Of course," she said frostily.

"Also," he met her eye again, "I spoke with Captain Yahanis. She said the reason those pirates were able to fly right up and deploy lasertowers on top of my miners is because the CAP didn't report the contact…?"

"Aye," she affirmed bitterly. "The lead pilot, Rhyner? He was a glory hound. He'd made a kill earlier in the night and wanted more. So when he saw that mobile pirate station he was hoping it would spit out a few more fighters for him to shoot at. So he elected not to report the contact."

Drakhar's face darkened.

"Don't worry," she told him. "I took care of it."

The other man nodded. "Alright," he said. "Other'n that, though," he squinted at her, "your pilots did really good." He met her eye. "I was impressed."

She nodded, accepting the compliment. I bet that hurt to say, she thought.

He squinted at her for a moment, as if reading her thoughts. Then he moved on. "Also," he said, "I want to set up a… hell, I don't know what to call it. A rapid response fleet. Say two or three frigates with large enough holds to jump anywhere in the gate network and enough ass to handle anything up to a battle group built around a Q or Yokohama. I want Ea't to lead it. So I'm thinking of the Osan'gar, maybe a panther or two with full fighter compliment…"

"None of those ships have the holds to accommodate long range jumps."

"Aye," he nodded. "We'll need some way to keep them supplied. Maybe one panther and a kariudo with freighter support? I don't know."

"Is this in addition to the Shuri?" she asked.

"Aye, but it's a higher priority. Consider the Shuri on the back burner for now. I want to be able to defend my assets."

She nodded.

"I'm willing to buy the frigates, fighters, and support ships," Drakhar said, "so just… I don't know… start thinkin' about it. We need to make this happen."

She nodded. "Build a fleet, aye."

"Alright," he said. "I guess that's it. Keep up the good work."

"Good of you to notice," she sniped.

He arched an eyebrow at her. Then he sighed, shook his head, and left the room. She followed him out and watched as he and his eleven marines squeezed into the elevator carriage. Her mind was already working on the problem he just gave her. The easiest solution was a tender, like an elephant or one of those mobile pirate bases, that had it's own squadron purely for defense. It wouldn't go into combat, but if it was attacked it would still have a dozen fighters watching out for it. Fill it up with all the missiles, weapons, and jump fuel the other three ships would need and then supply it with its own tender service? She frowned and shook her head. Well, if nothing else, she was gainfully employed.

"This. Way!" Mo t'Kkt intoned beside her. "Your marines. Stay. Here!"

She nodded. She didn't expect to need them. A moment later she stepped through the hatch into Thane's apartment. Directly beyond the hatch was a wall of hyperglass. As she stepped around that wall there was a sudden scrabbling flurry as a handful of enormous animals began rushing toward her.

Dogs, she told herself in an attempt to manage the sudden bolt of adrenaline. They're dogs.

Except they weren't dogs. Back on earth she'd grown up in a neighborhood with dogs, and families that owned dogs. The largest dog she'd known back then was a Rottweiler named Poncho, who lived several streets over. The smallest of these could have eaten Poncho for lunch. The largest was so big that her brain was struggling to put the creature into context. Seeing that dog approach was like being wide awake inside a fever-dream. In that instant Eri froze.

"HUNDE!" Thane thundered from the upper level of his apartment. Instantly all the dogs stopped charging her. The two closest, which happened to be the smallest, and thus roughly the same size as Eri herself, wiggled and pranced on the tiles as they looked back and forth between Eri and their master. "SITZ!" Thane commanded. Immediately four of the five dogs dropped their rumps to the deck. The largest of the five, however, did not. Instead this enormous animal, which, to Eri, looked a little like an Eskimo dog the size of a pony with the coloring of a German Shepherd, began trotting toward her again. One of the other dogs, a red one that seemed to have a lion's mane, barked once. It was loud enough to make her flinch. "Max," Thane said, sounding like a disappointed parent. The gigantic animal looked back toward his master. "Braver hund," Thane smiled. "Komm," he patted his knee. The big dog WOOFED! once, turned, and bound across the room to scrabble up the stairs. "Braver hund! Braver hund!" Thane grinned and lovingly pat and shook the big animal. Eri then watched him through the cast iron rail as he put his hand out, palm flat, and lowered it toward the floor. "Platz," Thane said. The dog crouched down obediently and lay on its belly. "Braver hund," Thane rumbled and turned his hand over, offering some kind of treat to the enormous creature, which was immediately devoured. Even laying on its belly the tops of the big dog's ears reached to the middle of Thane's thighs.

Thane turned toward her and beckoned. "Greetings Erika Chinomu," he said.

"Dockmaster," she said, immediately grateful that her voice was steady. Then she glanced at the dogs again. There were still four more of the creatures watching her from just a few paces away.

"Don't worry," Thane told her. "They won't trouble you."

Eri took a breath and started moving toward the stairs. "I heard that you had dogs," she said evenly, "but I admit that I wasn't expecting..."

"Aye!" Thane laughed. "Aye! Few are! I confess, it amuses me to watch as folk meet them for the first time."

Eri snorted. "I bet," she said under her breath.

As she crossed the room she began to take in her surroundings. It was a violently painful contrast. The space around her had been set up like a museum. Every space had been carefully crafted to showcase a piece of art. Then those spaces had been combined to create a scene; furniture, carpeting, wall coverings, artwork, plants, everything, down to the very last detail, had been carefully arranged to create an experience, and in many cases they were beautiful. Then those scenes had been laid out to tell a story. Only Eri couldn't decipher the story. Too many of those spaces were empty. Entire display cases had been removed. Some of these scenes were untouched but so many were empty, and those empty places were like faces missing eyes or a nose, and it was just as hideous to look upon. She could smell the acrid stench of a fire, and here and there she thought she even smelled sour urine. She could see where flames had licked a painting or a piece of furniture to scar but not destroy it. By the time she reached the stairs she once again she found herself wishing Ricky Machado a slow and very painful death.

"So!" Thane boomed as she stepped onto the second story. "What can I do for you, oh Commander of ships?"

Eri snorted. "Seldon mentioned your collection," Eri said and gestured to the space around her. "I came to..."

"Seldon?" Thane looked up and smiled.

"Aye," Eri nodded.

"You two are friends, then?"

Eri blinked. Then nodded, "aye, I'd like to think so."

"Impressive woman," Thane stated.

"Agreed."

"And she mentioned my collection?"

Eri nodded.

"Well," he sighed and looked around. "It's not what it was a few days ago."

"That's actually why I'm here," Eri told him. "And, for what it's worth, if I ever get the chance I will personally roast Ricky Machado over a slow fire."

"That sounds lovely," Thane said. "Take video."

Eri chuckled, almost despite herself. "Will do," she said. "In the meantime I have something to offer."

"Offer?" Thane lifted his enormous head. He looked mildly amused.

"I can't replace what you've lost, and I know it's not as good as the real thing, but," she held up the data drive that she'd brought with her. "This is a collection of digital images; scans of a few thousand of the rarest books from Earth, including a few that have been lost to time. There are also paintings, sculpture, the entire collection of the Louvre in twenty nine forty five, music, digital unfortunately, but still enjoyable with the right equipment."

The amusement had left his face. A sober appreciation had replaced it. She handed him the drive.

"Like I said, not as good as the real thing but..."

Thane met her eye. "Thank you," he said. "It's a noble gesture." He smiled sadly. "And I appreciate it."

Eri took a breath as Thane studied her. "Well," she said. "That's all I wanted..."

"Would you," he cut her off, "care to look around?" He swept his hand in an arc around them. "It's not what it was but I do still have a few pieces you might be interested in..."

Eri glanced at the computer on the inside of her right wrist. It read, 08:53. "I really should be going," she said.

Thane nodded. "I understand. Well," he said, "you may consider it a standing offer."

"Thank you," Eri said and turned around. She began moving toward the top of the stairs. Then her eyes settled on a series of cabinets to her right. Within them she saw what appeared to be a collection of medals from many, many different militaries. Just below them were a collection of firearms, including what appeared to be cap and ball revolvers. She squinted. She was nearly twenty meters away, so it was hard to tell, but she thought she was looking at an 1836 Colt Paterson, one of Earth's first repeating firearms, and just below that was what appeared to be an 1847 Colt Walker, and just below that was what appeared to be an 1851 Colt Navy revolver. Her eyes scanned to the left where, just a few display cases down, she saw what appeared to be a complete suit of Achaemenid armor. To either side of which were hyperglass cases containing what appeared to be stoneware vessels with ancient Persian motifs. "Are those," she asked, "authentic Achaemenid period?"

"The armor?" Thane replied. "No. That's a recreation of a suit the Persian immortals supposedly wore. The vases? Aye. They're from around three or four hundred years before the common era."

"You have authentic historical artifacts that are over three thousand years old?"

Thane chuckled. "One or two, aye."

Eri turned and focused on the man. He looked amused again. "You know," she said and then glanced at her timepiece again, "I think I can spare a few minutes." She quickly set an alarm, giving her until half past the hour. She met his eye again. "So what else can you show me?"

********

*Ice settles against glass.*

...

Yeah, so apparently Chinomu was on her way to meet with Thane and, I don't know, commiserate with him over the loss of his… ah… stuff. His art and artifacts, I mean. It actually made me a little uncomfortable. I mean don't get me wrong, I think the damage done to his artwork is just awful. Every time I've thought about the beautiful pieces in his collection recently I've actually thought about startin' my own. I just… I don't know. It just made me uncomfortable findin' my CAG on her way to meet with the Yaki dockmaster for reasons other than business. I mean I know that I've essentially thrown my… err… our… lot in with the Yaki but… ah, hell if I know. I mean keepin' Thane happy is smart, especially right now. I just… hell, I'm just still not very good at this whole trust thing.

Eh, frak it.

In any case so, Thane seemed disappointed that I wasn't gonna be able to do what I said I was gonna do, maybe even a little angry, but I'm pretty sure he's not gonna torture me to death. The fact that I actually did, in fact, deliver a fully loaded TL stuffed with nividium probably made a huge difference. I'm not sure how well that conversation would have gone had I not. Unfortunately I've essentially been committed to comin' when he calls for a while, and doin' the odd job when he needs a station built or an annoyance eliminated. That way I can help him mitigate some of the damage done to his reputation. I don't like it but what can I do? I told him one thing, he made commitments because of it and I can't deliver. So now I owe him. If nothin' else it'll teach me to keep my goddamn mouth shut until I know what I can and can't do. At least when I spoke to him this time I was really bloody clear that I could only guarantee two more shipments. There might be more than that but, as of right now, I simply have no bloody idea how much I'll be able to mine out of the remainin' roids I know of. I will be on the look out for more, of course. I plan on sendin' scouts out to scour the sectors I haven't mapped yet. Who knows, I might get lucky. I wonder if that's a job I can do with the Archangel? Which is currently doin' very little of anything. It's a fully armed, outfitted, and even staffed corvette… well, mostly staffed corvette. She does need a captain.

Which reminds me. I still haven't checked on Gabe. I know. I know. I just don't know what to do with the guy. He was never stable. He was bloody suicidal back when I first hired him. Now he's lost his brother and puttin' him in charge of that corvette nearly lost me the ship! So yeah! Frak if I know. At the very least I should make sure he has somebody to talk to. I guess I need to have him transferred over to the Endless for psychological… whatever they call it.

But yeah, I'm gonna have to just bite the bullet and put somebody else in charge of that ship. Then maybe I can send it out to do some scoutin' for me. Although now that I think about it, that's probably a job better suited to a drone M5. But either way, I still haven't mapped the entire gate network and, with some luck, I may be able to find some more nividium out there. Of course, right now the Paranid are kinda mad at me.

Yeah.

I've been feelin' pretty sour all day. So when a Heavy Nemesis wandered into Savage Spur and started tryin' to assert itself I decided to steal it.

It went badly.

*Ice settles against glass.*

...

It went very badly.

Crazy suicidal sons a' bitches. I tell yah! We had that frakkin' ship! I mean we had it! It was mine! I'd gotten rid of its escort with typhoon missiles. I'd suckered it away from any other Yaki that might decide to try and "help" by shootin' at it. I brought its shields down and beamed my psychos aboard. They cut through any and all resistance on their way to the ship's core… It was mine! My marines were literally turnin' the goddamn ship over to me when somebody fired a hammerhead missile that somehow immediately exploded. I don't know if it was a last ditch effort to keep me from takin' their ship or if the Predator's own missile defense system had a precognitive moment and fired a bossie before that hammerhead launched… I don't know! We were nearly eight kilometers away but I suppose a mossie could have done it… I just don't know. What I do know is that, at that precise moment, the nemesis had no shields and that goddamn nuke vaporized the ship… along with nine of my marines.

...

*Ice settles against glass.*

...

Hyuh. And that? That's kinda the way my whole day's been feelin', actually.

********

Randall heard the ship before he saw it. It came in low over the mountain behind them; a dark silver blade glinting in the sunlight. Randall saw both blue sky and the evergreen forest reflected in its surface. Despite the howling roar of its engines the sight of it made Randall feel like a weight had just been lifted off his chest. He, Pareii, Kellar, and Lau t'Nnt had been hunkered down in a small stand of trees for the past three and a half stazura. They were off the beaten path and had covered themselves with mud and dirt, hiding behind piles forest detritus to make themselves indistinct from a distance, but the sounds of people were always close. They'd already had two close calls with a group of kids cruising up and down the mountain on on bikes. A couple of them were actually really good. He'd seen one of them manage an aerial back-flip after catching air off a dirt ramp. The problem was that the bikes were silent, the kids were alert, and they knew the woods better than he and his marines ever would. So Randall and the others had spent much of the past day face down in the dirt and barely breathing. They had non lethal options available but just the idea of using force on kids made him sick to his stomach. So the sight of the susanowa cruising low over the treetops was a very welcome sight indeed.

"Shit, sarge," Pareii grumbled.

"What?"

"How many times do you think the profile of that ship has caused a red flag after being pinged by the local LADAR?"

Randall chuckled.

"Why?" Kellar asked. "Cos it's a…"

"A Yaki ship based on a Paranid model?" Pareii asked with his typical inner city charm. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

Kellar rolled her eyes. "You are such an asshole… Corporal."

"Oh!" Pareii laughed. "Pullin' rank on me sarge?"

"Can it," Randall whispered sharply. "We're not out of the woods yet."

Pareii blinked. "Shit, Sarge. I think that may be the very first time I've ever heard that expression used literally."

Overhead the susanowa made a slow circle of Ricky and Sal's crashed pod.

"What are they doing?" Pareii asked.

"Taking scans of the crash site," Kellar answered him.

"More importantly," Randall inserted, "how the hell are we gonna..."

There was a flash of blue light and he suddenly felt like he was falling outward. An instant later the flash subsided. He blinked and looked around. The very first thing he saw was the familiar face of Master Chief Warrant Officer Latasha Seldon. She had her arms crossed in front of her. One eyebrow was arched just a hair higher than the other, and her normally malleable, expressive face looked as cool and frozen as if it had been carved from marble. One look at her face and basic training kicked in. All four of marines climbed to their feet and snapped to attention while staring at the imagined horizon beyond the ship's bulkhead.

Seldon said nothing. Randall could hear her breathing. It was slow and measured. ~Seven beats in. Hold for four. Seven beats out...~ The silence and that slow, measured breathing felt very ominous.

"Kellar," Seldon said, "Pareii, Lau t'Nnt. I don't want to look at you. Head down into the cargo bay and find a stasis tube."

The three marines Randall brought with him fell out silently and immediately made their way below. Randall continued staring at his imaginary horizon. Seldon continued to breathe that slow, ominous breath. After a few moments he heard the last of the three life support coffins close below decks.

"Randall," Seldon said and Jak could hear how bad he'd frakked up in her voice, "you're a moron."

Jak winced.

"Do you have any idea just how badly your little field trip could have gone?"

Jak squinted. "Aye?"

"You do?" she asked. "So you are aware that your pod could have fallen through the roof of some suburban family's house? Or landed on the monorail? Or maybe in the river? I see that you've managed to misplace your helmet somewhere. I assume it's on the Conquest?"

Jak nodded.

"That would have been fun, huh?" She asked him. "Trying to surface from the bottom of the river without a helmet? I assume I don't have to tell you that your pod could have killed someone? I assume that you are equally aware that, for all intents and purposes, you executed an invasion of a residential neighborhood on Argon Prime? And you did this without orders from your superiors. You are aware that had you been picked up by the authorities you and the three marines you ordered to follow you would probably be rotting in prison for the next decade? Is that what you're telling me? That you were aware of all of that… and jumped into that pod anyway?"

Randall felt like he was looking into a strong wind. "Aah… which answer doesn't get me thrown out of the plane?"

"None of them," Seldon told him. "I am going to dedicate my life to making your life a living hell for the foreseeable future. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking…"

"Shut the hell up!"

Jak clapped his teeth together.

Seldon took a few more of those deep, mechanical breaths. Then she sighed heavily and nodded. "I know what you were thinking. You were thinking that I'd given you an order and you'd failed to carry it out. You were thinking that those two assholes just killed your friends and you weren't going to let them get away. Is that about right?"

Jak glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Yes, Chief."

Seldon rubbed her temples between a thumb and forefinger. "At ease," she said and Jak relaxed. "Listen, Jak," she began in a decidedly gentler tone. "You're a leader now. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I have to be able to count on you not to screw the pooch when I give you an assignment. Now I saw the footage from the brig cameras. I wouldn't have seen that old man coming."

Jak glanced at her again.

She held his eye. "I wouldn't have. The kid saw the video too. He wouldn't have. I mean who the hell expects that from a hundred year old man?!"

Jak held her eye and waited.

"So that's not your fault," she told him. "But jumping into an escape pod over a densely populated area?!"

"What should I have done, Chief?"

"Call it in," she said. "Immediately. Call it in. Let us know."

"That wouldn't have stopped them."

"No," Chief Seldon replied. "But we'd only have about twenty million credits in fines and damages to pay… instead of thirty five."

"Thirty five million credits?!" Randall winced. "That much?!"

"Yeah!" Seldon snarled at him, and Jak was grateful to see the flexibility return to her face. "You guys took out a strip mall! Including the bank! An entire neighborhood will have to go without check cashing, liquor, all those one credit items from the credit general, discount clothing, oh and the Bubba Burger joint! Because of you cholesterol levels will be dropping throughout the neighborhood. I hope your proud of yourself!"

"Hey," Jak said, "it's not my fault those goddamn pods are shit! The frakking landing brakes didn't fire! And the other one didn't even deploy a parachute!"

"Yeah, I know," Seldon told him. "It's too bad the landing didn't kill those assholes."

"Copy that," Randall agreed. He met Chief Seldon's eye. "I almost had Machado," he said and she met his eye. "He and the old man were on the monorail platform. The train was coming but I had him. Just one more heartbeat and I'd have renovated his skull for him."

Seldon stared at him for a moment. "Go find a tube, Randall. Get some rest."

********

Right. So after I saw Thane I returned to the Predator and got some shuteye. By that point I'd been up for nearly twenty four hours, and that's after only gettin' a few hours of very sparse sleep the night before. I was bloody exhausted. Before I hit the hay, though, I checked on Gin. She was still in a coma, although over 98% of her burns have healed. Legion said it was fine. She'd wake up when she was ready to.

...

*sigh*

...

Yeah.

So I did actually sleep. I slept the day away, in fact. I didn't open my eyes until sixteen hundred. When I woke up I tried goin' through my mornin' routine only to discover that my ribs and ankle were still very annoyed with me. So, instead of a five kilometer run followed by some fairly intense asanas I decided on some light stretchin' followed by a long and very hot shower. Then I ate breakfast, drank coffee and checked my messages… where I found several from Thane. He wanted two things from me: a dead pirate and a Split-made wasp missile production facility up in Okracoke's Storm. Now I admit that my knee-jerk reaction was a bit… sour. I really don't like feelin' like I'm on a goddamn leash. I know I owe him, and I knew he was payin' me for the work he was havin' me do, but neither of those things changed the fact that I couldn't say no. I mean I 'could' have, but it probably would not be wise. Soooo yeah, I didn't like it. At all. But… I gotta admit the guy definitely knew how to soften the blow. I mean that's nearly nine million credits for what amounts to very little effort on my part. So, as usual, I just called Odin up and made him take care of it.

The other job, however, was a bit more hassle, and required a lot more finesse to make it profitable… something my fellow Yaki were dead set on preventin', I might add. I took the ship but, good bloody God, it was a mess. I ended up havin' to kill two Yaki pilots to stop 'em from killin' my marines. Which obviously upset the clan those pilots belonged to, in this case a Boron clan that's relatively minor. Minor or not, though, shootin' at my fellow Yaki is somethin' I need to avoid. At the very least I need to avoid bein' seen doin' it. I wouldn't want anybody comin' after me with the same charges I brought against Huritas, after all. So when Bobo Do, the clan leader those two dipshits belonged to, called me up to demand to know what I'd done I claimed innocence. And, for the record, I did not shoot those pilots. They just both very conveniently managed to fly into my ship. Bobo Do didn't argue with me but I got the distinct sense that he or she or whatever the hell it was didn't believe me, either. But seriously! What the hell was I supposed to do?! Those bloody idiots just wouldn't frakkin' listen when I told 'em to stop shootin' at my marines! So… yeah! A quick tap of the turbo and-ah… problem solved.

Even so, the job was ugly. I mean I got paid three point eight million for the hit and all my marines came back alive… which wasn't a sure thing for a few minutes there. But even so, it was a mess. Even after I sold the Carrack to Thane I only ended up makin' twelve and half million for the hit, and that's the fee plus what Thane paid me for the frigate, mind you. Honestly? The whole thing just felt like a really dangerous and risky way to earn my credits. I think I actually prefer just orderin' Odin around. It's nearly as profitable and I don't have to risk twenty of my people doin' it.

Unfortunately, that's not what was on the day's agenda. While gettin' paid I was informed, by one of Thane's subordinates no less, that the Dockmaster had several associates who were in need of my services and that I was expected to assist 'em. As it turns out these associates had both been fracked over pretty bad and were in somethin' of a… bloodthirsty… disposition. I mean, once again, after it was all said and done I can't really say that I was bein' treated unfairly. I was bein' paid reasonably well for my time. I just really had other things to do; namely huntin' down Huritas and deliverin' her to Ea't so he can make kebabs and stir-fry out of her, settin' up a way to put Gil in my brig… or maybe one of Doc Boni's surgical tubes... and, of course, findin' lots of ways to put the hurt on the Terrans as a way of sayin', "thanks for the party you threw me."

But, needs must.

So the first of Thane's 'associates' was this Boron who… bloody hell! I really do hate the sob stories. Right. So the short version is that it was a revenge hit. This Boron lost a kid years ago and the asshole who killed the kid was spotted in Weaver's Tempest. My job was to execute said asshole. Yeah. No problem. At least I didn't have to feel guilty about snuffin' this particular life. Although sometimes I do wonder if I'm just bein' played. I mean, what if I'm just bein' told a palatable lie? What if all these executions are actually on people that other people just find irritatin'? Oh this guy is in line for a promotion before me. Find me a hit man. Oh this gal just got the contract that I'll lose my life savings if I don't get. Find me a cleaner.

Yeah.

You know, I think I'm just gonna stop thinkin' now.

Right. So, on that cheerful note, the next associate had another revenge hit and another horrible sob story for me. I don't know how she knew Thane or how helpin' her helped him but I do know that I had to listen to another goddamn horror story in which this woman explained to me how her lover was kidnapped, tortured, and then executed. I, of course, was expected to return the favor. On top of that the gal was payin' squat. So, since she wanted me to make the guy bleed anyway, I decided to mitigate my losses by takin' the guy's ship, and it really didn't hurt that it belonged to the Terran military. No. Really. That made me feel all warm and tingly on the inside. Right. So, once again, in the interest of makin' a long story short, a little while later I sent the gal a short clip of one Neol Yatar in an airlock just before my marines taught him how to fly. Then I made myself feel a little bit better about workin' for chump change by sellin' that katana. It didn't help much, but it did help.

Then I recieved Thane's next "request". I have to admit that the man really does have a way of makin' my indentured servitude hurt a lot less than it could. I mean considerin' that the shipyard in Argon Prime only wanted two point two mil for their low yield sidearm fabs I call that a pretty good job. Hell, I call that an ideal job. Over eleven million just for bossin' Odin around? Hell, I'll do that all day and go to bed happy.

Eh, what can I say? I try to keep it real. I mean relationships between men and women are messy from start to finish, right? But… the guy hurt my Ma, you know? It's really hard not to want to kick somebody's ass after they make your Mama cry. So, in lieu of tossin' the sunnuva bitch out an airlock I just bust his chops all day.

Would you believe that I think he actually likes it?

No? Ah well. It was worth a shot.

Right. So, anyway, while Odin was fetchin' that station for me I finally had the time to check in with my people. I got Chinomu, Ea't, H'nt, err… Yahanis somethin' somethin' the somethin'… the bloody Teladi I have runnin' the minin' operation, along with Kayla and Kao t'Kt for a video conference. Then I asked 'em all for updates. I would have had Seldon there as well but she's currently on Argon Prime sortin' that mess out for me. Ea't and H'nt both reported that their respective sectors have been quiet. Although with Ea't that required some clarification. His idea of 'loud' is a little different than the rest of us. Apparently a half dozen pirate guild fighters jumped into Weaver's Tempest and started flyin' toward the alpha complex, harrassin' my freighters and CLS trainin' ships along the way. I'm not sure if it was Gil's way of testin' my defenses or if he was just scoutin' the sector, or if he had anythin' to do with it at all. Whatever the case, though, Ea't smashed those fighters, captured the survivors… and err… had 'em for lunch and dinner. I did ask him how his evenin' with Cala Ma was shapin' up. To which he simply informed me that 'all ingredients' had been purchased.

Yeah. I didn't ask.

For H'nt, though, quiet meant quiet. The only excitement in Savage Spur involved the Yaki shootin' at some of my customers, which I've decided is somethin' we won't get involved in. After that Yahanis told me that the Sisyphus was already carryin' another twenty five hundred units and she expects at least another six to ten thousand from this asteroid. I asked her if she could narrow it down any and she said 'no'. Which was nice, actually, cos honestly? Listenin' to Teladi struggle their way through a sentence makes me feel like there's a bug in my ear. But anyway. So-yeah! Provided progress remains steady I should be able to expect another shipment by sometime tomorrow night. Which means another hundred million credit infusion into my bank account. I asked if there were any problems and she said 'no'. Which, once again, I liked hearin', albeit for more than just the one reason.

After that Chinomu informed us that the minin' fleet now had full fighter support but stated that, given the value of the assets in that fleet, she'd feel more comfortable with a carrier-frigate attached to it in addition to the roster of fighters. Which segued nicely into my proposition for the rapid response fleet. So, after askin' 'em if there were anything else I needed to know about I dismissed everyone but Chinomu, H'nt, and Ea't and began talkin' about how to compose this fleet. Unfortunately that particular conversation became a somewhat… lively… discussion about the merits of one frigate over another, what fighters to equip 'em with, whether to include bombers in the roster, how to best support the new fleet, whether to keep marines aboard, whether the crews should be human, Split, or a mixed race, and even, believe it or not, the pros and cons of keepin' medical personnel aboard. (Ea't is against it.)

While the discussion was still in full swing I had to excuse myself to check in with Odin and collect my pay from Thane, who had another job for me. This time he wanted wheat farm in Senator's Badlands. I almost asked him why but decided against it. For one thing look at that job for a sezura. A medium wheat farm goes for three hundred and sixty seven thousand credits at the shipyard in Cloudbase Southeast, right? Thane was offerin' me eleven million, six hundred and seventy one thousand to build it. I mean that's like free money. I almost asked him why he was bein' so generous but managed to keep my mouth shut and my curiosity to myself. Some things you should just be grateful for.

********

Gil sat down and accepted the connection. It came from halfway across the galaxy and required three encryption ciphers to decode. When the feed came through the image was grainy, and there was a slight delay before the woman on the far end realized that she was connected. When she did she turned toward the camera and smiled. It was a mysterious expression, that smile.

"Gil," the woman greeted him warmly. "Any news?"

"There's plenty of news," he replied. "To which are you referring?"

"Well," the woman said, "I was referring to that thing I asked you to find for me but I suppose we can talk about Huritas. You'll tell me if that witch turns up. Won't you?"

Gil smiled and put a toothpick in his teeth.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You know," she said casually. "I met your son."

"Did you?" he asked.

"Aye," she said, suddenly sounding like some star struck virgin. "Strong, he is. Intense. And much better looking than I expected." She grinned at the camera. "You think he likes red-heads?"

Gil grinned. "Be careful," he suggested.

"You know, I have to confess that I am rather surprised at him for still being alive and all."

"I expect he gets that a lot."

"There sure do seem to be a lotta folks out there tryin' to kill him. Don't you think?"

Gil smiled. Behind the smile, though, he felt a disquiet that was wholly unfamiliar. She was right. There were a lot of people in the universe trying to kill Drake and it bothered him far more than he ever would have expected. Through their fuzzy connection the woman smiled. It was an insolent, knowing expression. "So?" he prompted, changing the subject. "How is everybody getting along in the clans today?"

"Nobody gets along, Gil. That's just not how things are done. You should know that. We spy and cheat and wait for opportunities to take what we can. Do you folks do it any different? You and your guild?"

Gil smiled again. "No, love. We don't do it any differently. I expect it's the same way all over the universe. But since the attack? Any news? What are Thane and Gorda doing?"

She shrugged. "Oh, same as always. They spin their plots while the rest of us fetch and run and do our best to keep the money flowin' into our clans."

"So nothing new?"

"Well, there's been a lot of ships going to and from the shipyard, and Thane's been spendin' lots of money on engineers and materials. There was quite a bit of damage, from what I hear."

"Gorda?"

She shrugged. "He stays on his station and moves numbers around. How the hell am I supposed to know what they mean?"

"You're not exactly giving me useful information."

"Well," she said, "you're not exactly givin' me what I'm payin' you for."

Gil smiled. "I found a lead," he said.

"Did you? Feel like sharing?"

"Perhaps," Gil said. "Any news I might be interested in?"

She shrugged, "your son's buildin' again."

"Is he? Adding to that city in Weaver's Tempest?"

"That and starting a new one in Savage Spur. There he's got a pair of those really big solar power plants and all the little factories to keep 'em running."

"Two extra large energy loops?"

"I s'pose," she shrugged. "I got pictures," she offered.

"Send them to me," he said.

"Alright," she said and turned away from the screen. A few moments later she looked back at him. "There. Done. So?"

Gil smiled. "You're going to want to talk to a Teladi named Gobanis Lalundas Tzessosis the ninth."

"Bloody hell," she said and scribbled it down. "Gobanis Lalundas Tzessosis the...?"

"Ninth," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "And what? What is this Teladi going to tell me?"

"She was the last person that I know for a fact spoke to the man."

"She spoke with him?"

"Yes."

"Well, now," she smirked. "That could be interesting. Alright, Gil. Thanks luv."

A moment later she was gone. Gil stared into the space where the vid comm had been and picked a small blue ball up from the desk top. He squeezed it several times and then ricocheted it off the floor against the far wall and then caught it as it returned to him. He glanced at the surface of his desk. Within its surface was a two dimensional representation of the sector LooManckStrat's Legacy. The map had been zoomed out so far that it showed nearly a two hundred square kilometer section of space. Far away from either gate, in the far upper left hand corner of the map, was a single icon representing a carrier.

He squeezed the ball in his hand, then bounced it off the floor and far wall before catching it again. He stared at the map. After a moment he repeated his ritual with the ball. After catching it again he set it down and opened a holographic screen and began to type.

"Okay, Drake," he said. "You want her? Well I know where she is."

Beside the icon in the map there was a small balloon with an identifier. Within that balloon was the name Quetzalcoatl.

********
Continued...
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Scion Drakhar
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Post by Scion Drakhar » Wed, 27. Jul 16, 20:40

...continued


So, once Thane's wheat farm was in place I got paid and prepared myself for the next errand. There wasn't one. My time was my own. So I returned to the meeting where the Split brothers and Chinomu were continuing to discuss the new fleet. They'd already agreed that Ea't's tiger supported by two panthers was the best configuration for a three frigate strike force which would then be supported by a mobile pirate base or elephant with a full fighter squadron of its own. The TL would, in turn, be supplied by CLS freighters.

I have to admit that it's the logistics aspect of the operation that worries me. For some reason my logistic pilots always seem to do things that don't make sense to me. And all it would take is one screwup to leave the whole fleet without any jump fuel while a pirate guild armada ravages an asset of mine. But I'll trust my people here. I need this fleet. Being able to just send the Osan'gar and two panthers, along with forty fighters, to deal with any annoyances while I do other things… well, that actually sounds pretty nice. And havin' access to instant backup should I need it also sounds just dandy. So I told 'em to write up the proposition and that I'd see about buyin' the ships to make it happen.

In the meantime I decided to actually build an outlet for all the junk I have clutterin' up the Endless' hold right now. Namely computer chips and components, quantum tubes, cloth rimes, teladianium, and delaxian wheat. I thought of it as an 'Emporium', a shoppin' mall for all sorts of goods and services. A place I'll probably add many more factories to as time goes by. For now, though, I decided on:

Drakhar's Emporium
- 1x Chip Plant
- 1x Computer Plant
- 1x Quantum Tube Fab
- 1x Rimes Fact L
- 1x Teladianium Foundry L
- 1x Wheat Farm L
- 1x Cahoona Bakery L
- 1x Cattle Ranch L
- 1x Silicon Mine L [31]

Price Tag for the factories and complex construction kits: 21,289,132 credits

I decided that everything would be of Argon make, except the teladianium foundry obviously, in order to keep food supply issues to a minimum. So, not seein' any reason to wait, I sent Odin to work buildin' for me. A few hours later I'd managed to build everything but the computer plant. The shipyards in CloudBase SouthEeast and Argon Prime had everything but the teladianium foundry, which I picked up from the Ceo's Sprite shipyard, and the Argon computer plant… which is only sold in Omicron Lyrae, a sector that is currently a bloody war zone.

Riiight.

So, not willin' to send any of my TL's into that sector without so much as knowin' what's goin' on up there, I decided to jump up there with the Predator and scout it out. As we exited the gate the proximity alarm for hostile IFF's went off. That happened even before the viewscreens even kicked in. So I immediately checked the sector map to find the threat. It wasn't exactly terrifyin'. So I gave the gunnery crews permission to fire at will and ordered several typhoon swarms launched in order to say 'hi' to those scimitars. A few moments later the enemy was soup and confetti and I had several more prisoners populatin' my brig, which actually seems to be gettin' rather full. Now the Argon and Split I'll either recruit as crewmen or drop 'em off somewhere. But the pirate? The Terrans and that lone ATF officer? Hmm. I'm not sure those folks are goin' anywhere for a while. Well, the pirate I'll probably give to Boni… err… once he actually starts workin' for me again, anyway. Hmm, I may have to have a chat with Ea't about Cala Ma, just to make sure we're on the same wavelength. Boni scares the hell out of me but it actually is really nice havin' a mad scientist of my very own. But, yeah! Regardin' those Terrans, well, they're a conundrum. What the hell do I do with them? I know I've wrestled with this before but I honestly don't know what to do with 'em. I guess I'll run it by Gin when she wakes up.

Whenever that is.

...

*Ice settles against glass.*

*Puff! Puff!

*sigh*


...

I'm not used to missin' people. A few months ago there really wasn't anybody to miss. As far as I knew both Gil and Hayla'd abandoned me, and they were the only people I'd ever felt safe with in my whole life. Now?

Now I miss lots of people.

...

Puff! Puff!

And I don't even know what to make of that.

But anyway, in the aftermath of that skirmish there was a buster to pick up. So while I had the Predator cruise on over to grab it I also launched a camera drone and had the goblins deploy satellites. I don't expect 'em to last very long considerin' how much the Terran's like shootin' at my property, but eh? It's only a few advsats and they're not exactly expensive.

Heh! Yeah. I just talked about deployin' a hundred thousand credits worth of assets the way some folks talk about buyin' a friend lunch. I guess people really can get used to anything.

So, while the buster was limpin' into one of the exterior hangar cages I called in the Patriarch with orders to dock at the shipyard. While that was goin' on I realized there were more abandoned ships near the north gate and decided to go get 'em. After a little while I ended up collectin' a total of two busters, two scimitars, one rapier, and an ATF scout ship called a valkyrie. By the time they were all secure Odin was already back in Savage Spur so I decided to head back and join him. Which is when Universal Trader 15, one of my Drakes, notified the fleet that he was being attacked by pirate guild fighters in Two Grand. By the time I got the message and checked the satellite telemetry UT15 had jumped away but UT02 was still in the sector and one look at the Kea far to the north of the sector told me there was a pirate guild outpost up there. So I decided that a little pirate stomp was in order.

I jumped into Two Grand through the south gate, smashed the wolf pack headin' toward me, and then deployed a camera drone. Needless to say I was not surprised. Although I did find the presence of a Terran orbital laser to be noteworthy. Considerin' what I was about to throw at that station it wasn't gonna matter much, but it's presence alone felt a bit like a slap in the face. More proof of the pirate guild's collusion with the Wakiya.

I decided to let the pirates know how I felt about 'em. So I moved the Predator into a position about forty kilometers away from the station. Then I called in Ch't and asked him to make that station go away for me. It took a little more work to clean up the laser towers but eventually the sector was free of pirates. After that it was time to return to Savage Spur and continue buildin'.

That was before dinner. Since then I've had the opportunity to just sit and watch the station turn over. I've gotten to see what sells and what doesn't. Microchips, computer components, and quantum tubes are almost impossible to keep stocked. I started with nearly two thousand microchips in the Endless' hold, along with all the other rubbish. I've had a freighter just sittin' there shuttlin' all that stuff from the Endless to the station, fillin' it up again as the stock depletes. I've been sellin' everything at average price and folks are comin' from far and wide to buy from me. The microchips move so well that I literally can't keep the shelves stocked. I may be able to up the price on those quite a bit and still be able to move 'em. They sell so well, in fact, that I decided to add a few more stations to the complex.

Now the chip plants, and quantum tube fabs were easy to obtain, but since I wanted more computer components that meant another trip to Omly.

Heh.

Yeah. I'm not gonna waste any more satellites in that sector. I tried to call up the telemtry from those sats I deployed when I was there a few hours earlier and ended up havin' to double check myself. There were no satellites. I didn't notice at the time but all of 'em had been destroyed before I even got done sortin' out those pirates in Two Grand. So I was forced to jump up there again to make sure the way was clear for Odin and the Patriarch. It actually occurred to me… while we were in the wormhole… that that would make for one hell of an ambush. It wasn't. There were some more Terran skirmishers that I happily smashed, but no capital fleet waitin' with bombers and boomers to nuke me the instant I was out of the gate, the idea of which made me feel like someone had just walked over my grave. But, yeah, after crushin' the Terran occupation force I called in Odin and told him to dock at the shipyard again. Then I went into salvage mode. I snagged a few more astronauts and also netted a fancy ATF M4 called a Mjollnir. I can't really use it for anything but it is nice to look at.

So, after Odin picked up my stations, we returned to Savage Spur and I finished makin' some additions to my new Emporium. I expect that in the future there will be many, many stations built into that complex. In fact I'm already considerin' some crystal fabs and a low yield sidearm factory. But even as it is the bloody thing is immensely profitable, especially if I keep salvagin' old ships and stations. I mean, it's not indicative of profit based on actual production since I was usin' it as an outlet for all the excess stuff in the Endless' hold, but would you believe that in just six hours that station racked up nearly twenty million credits? I couldn't either. Now, to be fair, I do have a pair of commercial agents attached to the station, and their job is all sales. So that boosted the numbers as well. Even so, I'm feelin' confident that I made the right choice and will continue to monitor the Emporium and add more stations dependin' on what's makin' money.

...

*sigh*

...

Right.

...

*Ice settles in a glass.*

...

Puff! Puff!

*sigh


Which brings me back to the present, in which I just lost nine more marines. I just lost nine more marines in a frivolous attempt to capture a ship I didn't need. I just thought it was shiny.

Bloody hell, I'm tired. I think I'm gonna go sit with Gin.
Last edited by Scion Drakhar on Tue, 4. Jul 17, 23:23, edited 3 times in total.
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Triaxx2
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Post by Triaxx2 » Thu, 28. Jul 16, 03:28

H'nt turned off the video feed in his office, put his head in his hands for a moment, and then let his head fall, his forehead slightly deepening the dent in the middle of the desk. It was in truth his personal desk, short and almost table like, with a stainless steel top, and handful drawers that were more wire baskets than actual drawers. It wasn't his official desk, which was several feet forward, with a hard wood top, a glossy black shroud around it's legs, and a raised platform to ensure anyone called before it knew they were definitely guilty of whatever it was. The chair was even slightly spiky.

C'lt entered the room, just as his head hit the desktop. "Problems?"

"My brother, as much as I love him, as intelligent as he is, must occasionally be reminded that it is STARFISH who regenerate lost limbs naturally, and not humans." H'nt muttered into the table. C'lt coughed to cover a laugh.

"What did his ingeniousness do this time?" C'lt asked, shuffling a couple of datapads. H'nt snorted with amusement.

"The Huruk'tar wants to build a rapid response force. Frigates, fighters, a tender. I fought valiantly with Ea't and Chinmou. I won, mostly. Ea't will fly lead. I wonder if others will even get to fly?" H'nt chuckled..

"Perhaps he will leave some for them. Or miss a few." C'lt nodded, and passed him pads containing new pilot rosters. He ran his gaze across them, and thumbed approval for each.

"Idiot brother wanted to leave behind medical personnel. Save weight." H'nt offered, waiting for the response. C'lt burst out laughing. "Yes, that was how I felt."

"Chinmou?" she asked.

"Drake cut us off before she could respond." H'nt smiled.

"Decision?"

"Medical Personnel on the carriers. Keep the Osan'Garp light." H'nt replied.

"Fleet composition." C'lt clarified.

"Oh. Osan'Gar, two Panthers. A TL of some description for supply. I meant to suggest a Ryu. Good ship." H'nt chuckled.

"Not Elephant?" C'lt queried.

"Three Split warships, mistake for maneuvers. Four Split ships, one look like carrier or destroyer? Looks like invasion fleet. Three Split ships and one Yaki? Looks like fight, draw spectators, leaches. Lure into Trap." H'nt smiled a wicked smile. "I should message Drake about that."

"Later." C'lt smiled an equally wicked smile.

"Agreed."
A Pirate's Revenge Completed Now in PDF by _Zap_
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Tohron
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Post by Tohron » Thu, 28. Jul 16, 04:44

Guess all the stations you're running have really boosted your trade rank, since you're getting mission payments like that. Think the Nividium sale could have contributed too (which would actually fit kind of nicely).

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Post by Zaitsev » Thu, 28. Jul 16, 05:34

So ...

A good meal, some nice music and another chapter from Scion. I've had worse nights. Much worse.

Also; *SQUEEEEEEEEE!*
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am :D

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Post by Sirrobert » Sat, 30. Jul 16, 11:48

Thanks for the chapter.
I love Thane more and more :lol:
9 out of 10 voices in my head say I'm crazy. The 10th is singing the music from Tetris

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Post by Scion Drakhar » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 02:32

79. Shock

Dal was in the process of making sure that all of his tools were put away properly. This was primarily accomplished by bellowing at those members of his crew who'd forgotten to do so already. He was fairly sure that at least half his crew believed he was psychic. To his junior crewmen he always seemed to be in a dozen places at once, working on at least twice that many projects over the course of two shifts every single day. Yet he still managed to call out the one mechanic who'd forgotten a socket or box-end wrench on the other side of the hangar. Over the years he'd overheard at least a dozen rookies ask, in tones of pure bewilderment, "how does he DO that?!" He never let the forgetful see how much their shock and confusion amused him. Eventually most of them figured it out, of course. It wasn't magic. Everything had its place. Those places were clearly visible. One glance at a toolbox as he walked by or at a pegboard from across the workshop was all it took to let him know whether any of his tools were missing. And since he was the one handing out assignments, and knew which tools were required to complete the tasks he'd assigned, it was usually a simple matter to know which tool had last been used by which mechanic. But for the first six to eight weeks of a rookie's career it was always privately amusing to appear at least partially god-like.

Today it was Chawn. In fact lately it was almost always Chawn, and Dal had a feeling that it would be Chawn for some time to come. Dal puffed on his cigar and watched the boy run. It was actually painful. He'd just sent the kid to fetch the torque wrench he'd forgotten under susanowa number three and was amazed that the guy was able to get from one place to another without crashing and burning every time he got under way. The boy had no grace whatsoever. Chawn was like some kind of lurching, lopsided collection of bad springs, mismatched pistons, and stray sprockets. He literally seemed to be all elbows, knees, and stray locks of hair. Dal actually found himself wondering if, for the first time in his career, he'd found an untrainable rookie. Normally he preferred a good attitude to lots of brains but in Chawn's case he regularly found himself wishing for a little less of the former and somewhat more of the latter. Chawn had a great attitute but the kid was dumb as a bag of hammers. So Dal puffed on his cigar, watched the kid run, and sadly shook his head.

He was just about to check on Yaz, his other problem child, when he saw Seldon. She was climbing out of the bottom of susanowa number five which had just returned from Argon Prime. She was dressed all in black civvies and had four more marines right behind her. All four marines, and it was obvious by their stance and body language that that was what they were, were wearing black suits with black overcoats to hide the weapons they were carrying and dark sunglasses to hide the movements of their eyes. His first thought was that they looked like mobsters or maybe government-men, which he supposed was just a different kind of mobster. Dal snorted and shook his head. That was when Seldon saw him.

For an instant time stopped. Nothing else existed. It was just her and him. Everything else ceased to exist. Then she smiled and it was like gentle lightning. Time started again and he took a deep breath. He knew he was in trouble. He'd known it for weeks now. Many jazura ago a woman named Shiela Dannar told him that in every relationship there was always one person who loved the other person more, and that was ultimately the person who got screwed. Back then he hadn't cared, but thinking about her now he found himself remembering the sadness in her eyes. Shiela had been that person and she'd known it. She loved him more than he ever deserved to be loved, certainly more than he was capable of loving. It wasn't until many jazuras later that he realized how good he'd had it. But when he'd left her he'd broken her heart. At the time he didn't care. He had his whole life ahead of him and a universe to see. But now he felt that same sadness in his own eyes. He was the person that loved more and, just like Shiela, he knew he was screwed.

As he watched she turned away to address her troops. Just then Chawn jogged back up with the torque wrench in his hand. "O-okay chief," he stuttered, breathless. "I-I-I've got it, Chief."

"I see that," Dal said, with a pointed glance at the wrench in the young man's hand. "And the eighteen millimeter socket you were using on my coolant regulator?"

The kid's eyes went wide. "Oh shit… " he groused without so much as a trace of a stutter.

"Oh shit is right," Dal chuckled. "Go find my socket, kid."

As Chawn lurched back toward susanowa three Dal shook his head and turned back to Seldon. She was dismissing her troops and obviously wasn't happy with one of them. That one was receiving a pretty decent tongue lashing, complete with punctuation from a dangerously stabbing finger just under the guy's nose. It took Dal a sezura to realize the guy getting the ass-chewing was Jak Randall. 'Aw shit,' Dal chuckled, 'stepped in it good today, didn't ya, bucko?'

Randall winced in response to a particularly vehement thrust from Seldon's finger. A moment later Seldon sent all four marines on their way with a gesture that Dal read as the time honored, 'get the hell out of my sight before I do something drastic', routine. He then watched as she glared at their backs. One of them glanced back and caught Seldon's version of 'the death stare' before quickly returning to an in-depth study of his own boots. At which point Seldon glanced at Dal again and, for an instant, it was just the two of them again and they each had to struggle not to laugh.

A few moments later she stepped up in front of him with a broad grin. "Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself," he grinned back, then looked her up and down. "What's with the suit?"

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes. "Don't ask."

"Don't ask, huh?" Dal laughed. "That sounds ominous."

She spread her hands. "Let's just say that I prefer my battles straightforward. They shoot at me and I shoot back at them. Ideally I hit. But the way these lawyers and suits do battle is just..."

Dal raised both eyebrows. "Lawyers?!"

"Aye," she groaned.

"That sounds..."

"Like a royal pain in the ass?" she suggested with a thin smile.

"I was gonna say 'official', but sure. That works."

"Chief?" The voice of a Teladi beside him. Both Seldon and Dal turned to look at Yalosis Grabineous Yasmideos the VII, or 'Yaz' to the crew. "I finissshed all of thossse fassstenersss…"

"That's good," he replied, "real good, Yaz. But I've been thinking. Do you know what I've been thinking, Yaz?"

"No, Chief?"

"I've been thinking that you seem to like machining new parts. Do you like machining new parts, Yaz?"

The Teladi grinned sheepishly.

"Aye," Dal nodded. "I thought so. Well, here's the thing, Yaz. Since that's the case it's not teaching you the lesson I need you to learn. So I've decided that the next time you strip one of my fasteners I'm not gonna have you make any replacements."

The Teladi blinked. "Really?" she asked.

"Really!" Dal grinned around his cigar. "Instead, I'm gonna have you memorize the correct torque setting for every fastener on every plane in this hangar. Every. Single. Last. Nut, bolt, screw, plug, and connector. How's that sound?"

The Teladi's eyes had grown wide. Her scale plate paled to whitish shade of green, and the ridge plate on her head was standing straight up.

"You know how I make my guys memorize things, Yaz?"

The Teladi's ears were vibrating. Her mouth was wide open, but she had nothing to say.

"By havin' 'em write every last thing that I want memorized a thousand times. Each. How's that sound, Yaz? I'm gonna have you write out the correct torque setting for every last fastener on every last plane in this hangar, in long form, one thousand times each. Oh, and it's an assignment that you may consider leave-dependent."

The Teladi's eyes, already wide open, seemed to grow to the approximate size of tea-cups. 'Leave dependent' meant that until the job was complete the crewman in question could not take shore-leave or engage in recreational activities. The scale plate on Yaz's forehead went so pale that it was nearly white, and the ridge on her head looked like it was made of stone. "Chief?!" she whined and held out her claws. They were not made for holding pen or pencil.

Dal shrugged. "Well, what else am I gonna do with you, Yaz? You know where to find the settings. You told me so! You just won't look 'em up before you go stripping out my carriage plates or crushing my gaskets! So I'm just gonna have to bypass the problem entirely and make sure the information is burned right into your noggin'!" He pointed at the center of the Teladi's forehead.

Yaz's mouth was wide open in a very human expression of shock. Dal waited a moment while Yaz started at him, hoping for a reprieve. Suddenly he dropped his eyebrows so low over his eyes that he seemed to be peering at her from deep inside a pair of overgrown caves. He leaned forward and shifted the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, then clamped it between his teeth. He glowered at Yaz until the Teladi leaned away nervously.

"Stop stripping out my fasteners, Yaz."

"Yes, Chief," she squeaked.

Dal stood up straight and waved her away. "Go on," he said. "Git."

Yalosis Grabineous Yasmideos the VII grinned, realizing she'd been spared. "Yesss, Chief," she hissed happily and scurried.

Dal looked up to see Seldon smirking at him. "What?" he asked.

"You're such a softie," she told him.

"Well that depends on who I'm with and what we're doing," he said proudly, without missing a beat.

Seldon blinked, then laughed. "Oh does it now?!"

He smirked at her. "Well you should know," he growled softly. "So? You about ready to make good on that beer you owe me?"

"I think I owe you more than just a 'beer', Chief," she told him, then blinked as he reached out to pluck the glasses off her face. "Oh!" she laughed. "Sorry. I forgot I was wearin' 'em."

He met her eye and waited. He already knew what was coming.

After a moment her smile slipped as she squinted at him. "I've gotta report to the kid," she apologized. "After?" she said hopefully.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll still around tonight but…"

"Still around?" she asked. "You going somewhere?"

Dal smiled and gestured to the catwalk above the pilot's lounge. Chinomu was currently stood there surveying the hangar. "The Queen says I run my shop better than the fellas out in the mining fleet." He met Seldon's eye again. "Wants me to go out there and give 'em some pointers." He puffed his cigar. "Personally I think she just needs to give 'em some time, let 'em find their feet." He shrugged. "But what do I know?"

Seldon smirked. "You know she's gonna have you running the repair crews throughout the fleet, right?"

"God, I hope not," Dal grouched. "I like having my shop and crew. If I wanted to be running logistics for all the flight decks in a fleet and settin' up training schedules I'd have stuck with the goddamn military!"

"I'd have stuck with the goddamn military!" she mimicked him, duplicating everything from his tone to his posture to the way his lips curled around the cigar in his teeth.

For a moment he just stared her. Then he burst out laughing. "Smartass!" he laughed.

"Smartass!" she echoed.

He shook his head and handed her glasses back. "Well," he laughed as she took the glasses and grinned at him. He smiled back but in that instant he thought of Shiela again, and the sadness in her eyes. For a moment they just smiled at each other but it felt strained. He inclined his head toward the lift, "go on," he said gently. "Git."

She put a little more 'oomph' into her grin and started to walk away. A moment later she glanced back and shook her head at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Softie," she winked at him. Then she turned away. After a few paces she took off her overcoat and threw it over one shoulder. She was dressed in a suit but it was well made and showed off both her curves and the way those curves moved as she walked.

"Oh," he sighed to himself. "Be still my aching heart."

********

Eri stood on the catwalk just outside her office and sipped her coffee. She watched Seldon walk away from Chief Cornell and she watched Dal very obviously admire the view. After a few paces Seldon glanced up and met Eri's eye. Eri nodded in greeting. Seldon lifted her chin in reply. A moment later the marine was jogging up the ladder to the catwalk. Eri sighed. She had a mountain of work to do and Seldon had a way of monopolizing her attention. A moment later the woman was striding up to her. Eri turned her head and looked the other woman up and down.

"You look better," Eri told her.

"Got some shuteye on the plane," Seldon agreed. "A few hours of sleep and I'm not tired any more. Go figure."

Eri snorted softly.

"So," Seldon asked her. "You got a spare plane?"

"I have planes," Eri replied, "I wouldn't call any of them 'spare'."

"I need to get to the Endless," Seldon stated. "Drake's on it and I've got a report to deliver. And for some reason he won't answer his damned comm."

Eri looked up. "Why didn't you just have Drummond drop you off?"

"I had four exhausted marines with me who needed to get back to their barracks, and," Seldon shrugged, "after eighteen hours behind the stick your pilot was lookin' a little green around the gills. 'Sides, I kinda wanna be able to get back once I'm over there."

Eri held Seldon's eye until the other woman noticed.

"What?" Seldon asked.

"You riding my pilots, Seldon?" Eri asked ominously.

Seldon winced at the tone, then sighed. "You heard about me givin' that kid a hard time last night."

"I did."

"Sorry," Seldon smirked. "I was up past my bedtime."

"Well today all the pilots on this ship can talk about is 'the bitch in charge of the marines'." She met the other woman's eye. "The consensus is to steer clear of you."

Seldon raised her eyebrows. "Oh really?" she asked, looking pleased with herself. Then she turned her head to regard Eri sideways. "Is that good or bad?"

"Maybe a little of both," Eri replied. "Just try to remember that these are my kids, Seldon."

Seldon grinned and then bowed her head in mock submission. "Copy that," she said. Then she met Eri's eye mischievously. "Want to spank me to make sure I got the message?"

Eri sighed and leveled a reproachful look at the other woman.

Seldon, of course, just laughed. "Don't worry," she assured the CAG. "It won't happen again…"

"Oh no!" Eri corrected her. "If they do something stupid feel free to set them straight. Just be fair. Drummond's a good officer. She may not be the hottest stick on my roster but she's smart, steady, and committed. Right now I'd take three dozen just like her and consider it a helluva good deal."

"Three dozen?" Seldon blinked.

Eri nodded. "The man is putting together a rapid response fleet, what he calls a 'wolf pack'. He wants three frigates. The Osan'gar'll be in the lead backed up by a pair of panthers."

Seldon nodded. "Fully loaded panthers?"

Eri nodded. "Oh yeah."

Seldon pursed her lips and nodded. "That's a lot of firepower."

Eri nodded. "I think the idea is overkill. He wants that crazy Split to be be able to deal with any headaches that come up."

"Something happen to get this ball rolling?" Seldon asked.

Eri nodded. "Pirates flew a mobile base right up to the mining fleet last night. They dropped anchor and deployed lasertowers right on top of the miners."

"Yowza!" Seldon exclaimed. "Your CAP didn't see a bloody TL on approach?!"

Eri sighed heavily. "They did," she said, "but the idiot flying lead wanted to be a hotshot."

Seldon's eyes and mouth dropped wide open. "Oh hell," she laughed bitterly. "I'm guessing you're makin' that idiot's life a living hell?"

"No," Eri shook her head. "The fool cost us three ships and got two people killed. I fired him and made sure he knew he was getting off easy."

"Yeah," Seldon nodded. "Hell, you probably saved his life. If Drake heard about that…"

"He did," Eri stated.

Seldon shook her head. "He's killed people for shit like that."

Eri raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

"Oh yeah," Seldon chuckled. "Well, it was a little more involved than just a screw up. But yeah, endanger his people and Drake isn't exactly forgiving."

'Neither am I,' Eri thought and fixed her gaze on one of Cornell's crewmen. She was, once again, uncomfortably aware of the similarities between the way she and Drakhar handled problems. "Well," she said frostily, "the idiot's gone and I'm pretty sure the other pilots in that squadron got the message but I'm going to conduct another round of training for all of my pilots to make sure they know what their jobs are."

"Sounds like a good idea," Seldon agreed with her.

Eri nodded.

"So this 'rapid response fleet'," Seldon asked her, "is that in addition to the Shuri or instead of?"

"In addition," Eri told her, "but the Shuri has to wait. Right now the top priority is giving Ea't s'Quid three frigates and forty fighters." Eri squinted as she said it. The words tasted like bile in her throat.

"What?" Seldon asked her.

Eri blinked and met the marine's gaze.

"You look like someone just shit in your shoes."

Eri snorted. "I suppose I'm just concerned with Drakhar's choice of commander."

Seldon blinked, then shrugged. "Don't underestimate that Split."

Eri shook her head. "It's not his ability to command that concerns me."

Seldon looked at her expectantly.

Eri met her eyes and then sighed. "Look," she said, "I know better than to listen to scuttlebutt," she met Seldon's eye, "but some of the things I've heard about him are…"

"Uh huh," Seldon nodded.

"Is any of it true?"

Seldon shrugged. "Normally I'd say ignore the rumors, but with that guy?"

"So he really did...?" Eri scoffed and shook her head.

"Go on," Seldon encouraged her.

"I can't believe I'm even asking about this," Eri admitted. "Even inside my head I sound like some fresh-faced rookie believing the squadron ghost story."

Seldon chuckled. Then she met the other woman's eye. "Well," she said, "I don't know what you're asking about, but in Ea't's case?" She shrugged. "It's probably true. He really is one scary son of a bitch," she stated.

"Did he really cook and eat the crew of an ATF vali in front of their captain?"

Seldon laughed nervously, then took a breath and met Eri's eye. After a moment she shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted and held up her hands. "But I can tell you that… well." She looked Eri up and down.

"What?"

"Let's just say that if he did?" Seldon raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah?" Eri waited

"They had it coming."

Eri's eyes opened wide as she searched the other woman's soul. "How the hell can you say that?!"

Seldon took a breath and let it out. She met Eri's eye. "You know we worked for the USC for a while, right?"

Eri nodded.

"It was mercenary, freelance stuff mostly. But we were around when the Xenon hit the Sol system for the first time in…" she shrugged, "centuries?"

Eri nodded carefully.

"Drake helped repel them and even turned over his sensor data, but the USC tried a data mine on his ship. Well, Drake's never been the trusting sort so he'd taken precautions beforehand and set up a little message for the USC."

Eri raised an eyebrow. "What kind of message?"

Seldon rolled her eyes. "From what I understand he compressed and then super-encrypted a whole lot of porn, made it look like some juicy little secret. The USC gobbled it up."

"Cute," Eri snorted. "Nice way to tell someone to go frak themselves."

"Right!" Seldon spread her hands. "And that's all it was; nice try but no. Keep your fingers out of our cookie jar. So afterward we thought we were good, you know? Drake had his little laugh and we figured whoever unzipped those files would get the message while having a little chuckle themselves." Seldon looked out at the hangar deck. "I mean, to us, the USC was just another client…"

"What did you do for…?" Eri frowned and cut herself off just before using the word 'us'.

Seldon raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Old habits die hard?"

"Very," Eri assured her.

Seldon nodded. "Well," she said, "mostly it was just backup for some…" She made a classic Seldon-face and shrugged.

"What?"

Seldon rolled her eyes. "Well," she said, "let's just say that not all the folks wearing USC colors are as competent as you are."

"What does that mean?"

Seldon took a breath and thought about it. "Well," she said, "they were meddling, which is what governments do, I suppose, but these guys weren't very good at it. I wasn't exactly privy to details but I do know we had to scoop a couple of them out of the vacuum after some kind of impromptu prison break."

"Prison break?"

"Aye," Seldon nodded. "One of those idiots got picked up by the Argon military after trying to hack into a trading station or something."

"Why was he hacking a trading station?"

"Hell if I know," Seldon shrugged. "I don't think we were exactly workin' with the creme of the crop with those two. Look, my point is that we thought everything was hunky-dory, you know? We were backing the USC while they did their thing in the commonwealth. This was before the war and we didn't really care what you guys did so long as the credits were good. Then, with no warning whatsoever, the ATF sabotaged two of our carriers, a couple of our frigates, and kidnapped Drake and Gin."

Eri frowned. "Why?"

Seldon met her eye. "I don't know," she said. "Both Drake and Gin said it was because this ATF admiral got pissed after seeing Drake's prank with the porn. Apparently she didn't think it was funny."

"That doesn't make any sense. A military operation like that would have a huge cost in credits, time, manpower, and lives. It's not the kind of thing you set in motion because someone offends your sensibility, and an admiral would bloody well know that."

Seldon shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "Like I said, at the time I wasn't privvy to what went on behind closed doors and Drake's never been much of a sharer. And Gin's even worse." She met Eri's eye. "But they both said it. It was the porn. I don't know how they know, although I do have my suspicions. I think..." Seldon closed her mouth then, and looked at Eri sideways. Then apparently thought better about what she was going to say. "Look, the point is we were able to get him back after he was kidnapped but not before the crew of that Vali tortured him for a while. So, did Ea't cut up that Vali's crew and eat 'em in front of their captain?" She shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't." She looked Eri up and down and then shrugged. "But I wouldn't put it past him. I do know that Drake was both scared and really pissed off."

"Pissed off enough to attack the Sol system, destroy twenty six ships, and kill eleven thousand people?"

Seldon's normally malleable face grew hard and cold. She turned to meet Eri's eyes. "Aye," she said. For a moment they just stared at each other. Then Seldon arched an eyebrow. "What would you have done? Think about it. We were attacked without provocation. Our ships were crippled. Our people were killed. Drake and Gin were kidnapped and tortured without so much as an explanation. What would you have done? Honestly, now."

Eri said nothing. She inhaled slowly and looked out across the hangar deck. Out on the hangar deck Cornell was answering questions for two of his junior crewmen. A pair of fresh faced kids hung on his every word. Eri scowled as the war raged inside her. 'Twenty six ships!' The facts screamed inside her mind. 'Eleven thousand people killed!'

She scowled as she thought about it. What would she have done? She found it disturbingly easy to believe Seldon's story.

"...You will destroy that tango, Lieutenant! Do you hear me?! Destroy that target!! Open fire, Chinomu!!"

"There are fifteen hundred people on that transport! I can't..."

"This is not a frakking request, Lieutenant! DESTROY THAT TARGET!!"


She forced herself to breathe. After a moment she shook her head. Tens of thousands of deaths because of a prank? The idea made her sick and it was easy to get angry, and easy to point the blame at Drake. If she was going to be completely honest with herself she had to admit that she wanted the fault to lay with Drake. But as a historian she knew that human beings could find their way to war for the most absurd of reasons; including, but not limited to, sporting events, a slaughtered pig, a stray dog, a golden stool, a severed ear, a pretty girl's affections, a shaved beard, a pastry shop, a drunken brawl, bird poop, a female camel, honey, an oak bucket, and, her all-time personal favorite, the differing interpretations of the always capricious and ever inconstant wishes of one person or another's favorite invisible friend, also known as religion. She also knew that truth was almost always stranger than fiction. So it really wasn't a huge stretch to believe that Drake had been attacked because someone took offense to a prank. It really wasn't. But it also wasn't hard to see how such an attack would have disastrous repercussions. So who was to blame? The prankster who got angry after being kidnapped and tortured or the admiral who couldn't take a joke? And what really troubled her was that she really didn't know what would she have done had she been in Drake's shoes.

She glanced back at Seldon, who was waiting patiently. "Alright," she said, deciding to change the subject. "As far as a 'spare' ship goes," she shrugged, "I can let you take the kestrel." She turned and looked the other woman in the eye. "Just do me a favor and try not to kill yourself, okay?"

Seldon snorted. "I'll do my best," she said, "but no promises."

Eri rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Seldon called her attention back.

Eri raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?"

Eri shrugged. "Hell if I know."

Seldon clapped her on the shoulder. "One breath at a time, sister," she said.

Eri nodded and Seldon turned away. A moment later the marine was gone, off to change into her flight suit, which left Eri alone with a mountain of work to do and troubled thoughts for company.

********

Kao t'Kt turned his head when Latasha Seldon stepped onto the Endless' highest security hospital ward. He watched his colleague approach the nurses' station and he watched as the nurses smiled and pointed her toward the corridor where Kao t'Kt himself stood guard. Seldon glanced his way and saw him. Then she thanked the nurses and headed his way.

"Hey, Frank," she said as she stepped up.

"Latasha Seldon," Kao t'Kt replied.

"What's going on?" she asked him. "The kid's off his comms and nobody seems to know why."

"Gin Ookami left."

"What?!" Seldon exclaimed. "What do you mean she left?!"

Kao t'Kt simply stared at her and waited. She leaned to look past him through the windows into the hospital room that he guarded. He watched her expression pale, then harden. She turned her eyes back on him.

"How long has he been like that?" she demanded.

"Since zero one twenty," Kao t'Kt answered her.

Seldon's eyes grew wide. "And you just let him sit there?!"

Kao t'Kt held Latasha Seldon's eye. "Yes," he stated.

********

Seldon scoffed disgustedly. Meeting the big guy's eyes was like staring into a fusion reactor; lots of deadly intensity but not much in the way of emotional contribution. Seldon rolled her eyes and stomped past him. She palmed the door controls. A heartbeat later the electromagnetic actuators produced a deep, ringing hum and the hatch folded up into the bulkhead. She stepped into the hospital room and glared at her employer.

Drake was sat with his ass on the deck and his back against the wall. He was staring at the empty tube that had recently contained Gin Ookami while she healed from multiple gunshot wounds. He didn't so much as blink as she stepped into the room. Seldon wasn't even sure if he was aware of her. She felt her nose wrinkle involuntarily and glanced at the tube. It was empty now, and had recently been cleaned and sterilized, but she could still smell the faint, baby-like odor of the amniotic gel it had been filled with. She could also smell the antiseptic agents that had been used to clean the room, the slightly metallic scent of the O2 being pumped through the vents, and Drake. His scent was just the slightest tinge on the air, like clean sweat, leather and sandalwood, but there was also a sourness to him that Seldon knew well. It was the way humans smelled after battle or prolonged stress. She stepped up beside him and waited. Drake still didn't so much as blink. After a momenent she sighed then hunkered down to sit beside him.

"Hey," she said when they were shoulder to shoulder.

His eyes moved slightly, as if he'd started to look her way and then ran out of energy.

"So," Seldon prodded, "she left…"

Drake said nothing.

She took a breath and let it out. Her eyes swept the room. There was very little of interest. Several cabinets, a counter with a sink, the basin in the deck to rinse off patients after they were removed from the tube, several unused chairs and a bouquet of flowers that sat in the waste bin. She winced, hoping it wasn't Gin who put them there. She turned back to Drake. "I spoke with Elias Blackmar," she told him. "He's agreed to take the case. He wanted an enormous frakking retainer but he's on the job. Says it'll probably end up costing us a little over thirty million credits, and that's provided that no one gets a good run on a law suit. The pods did a lot of damage. And, of course, the government'll want its cut..."

"I killed nine marines today," he whispered without the slightest emotional inflection.

Seldon stopped breathing. She felt as if she'd just been punched in the gut. She closed her eyes and trembled as the strength ran out of her. "Nine of my marines?" she asked, also in a whisper.

"Three," he said.

"Three of my guys?!"

"Aye," he answered in that same toneless whisper. "The rest were pirates."

"Who?" she asked.

"Halen Brano, Cerise Danar, and Kleo Sallarn," he told her.

Seldon took a breath and let it out. Halen had been an ass, a hotshot who thought he was God's gift to women, but he'd been about as competent a marine as she'd ever trained. Cerise Danar was angry, the kind of woman who always seemed to be a hearbeat away from either biting someone's head off or beating them to death. Kleo, though, Kleo had been funny. She was easy going with a good heart and the kind of smile that always lit up the room. She was the kind of person who was hard to be depressed around, a blessing to her friends and a credit to any unit she served with… Seldon winced and shook her head. She'd just been composing the letter she'd send to the dead woman's family.

She took another breath. "How?" she asked.

"Paranid Heavy Nemesis," he whispered. "We took the ship. Then the 'nids detonated a nuke." He shrugged. "At least it was quick," he added morbidly.

She shook her head. What a waste. Then she clenched her jaw. Three more. She knew the pain would fade. It just never faded fast enough. She turned her head and glared at the side of the Drake's face. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt," she said, "and assume that you were trying to capture that ship because you needed one of its officers or something. Because Drake? If you tell me that you just got another three of my kids killed just because something shiny caught your eye… I just might kill you."

Drake said nothing.

Seldon took another breath and turned away from him. She found herself staring at the amnio-tube. She listened to herself breathe for several minutes. After a while she realized that she was breathing the same way Drake had the day before after she'd told him about Ricky and Sal's escape. Seven beats in, hold for four, seven beats out, hold for four…

"So," she said, changing the subject, "where is she?"

"I dunno," he replied, sounding impossibly tired. "Legion said the first thing she did was to," he took a breath and sighed again, "ask him not to tell me." He shrugged weakly, as if he didn't have the energy to do even that. "Then she went below and," his head dipped as he spoke, "took the captain of that centaur."

"From the attack on Nova Somnia?" she asked.

"Aye," he whispered.

"Then what happened?"

"Then she left," he said. "Just took the rapier and flew right through Savage Spur. Then she was gone."

Seldon shook her head. It didn't make any sense. "You track the rapier?"

"Tried," he whispered. "She must have hacked it…"

"Why?!" Seldon demanded, frustrated. "Why would she do that?!" She rounded on him. "Did something happen between the two of you?!"

"What?" he blinked. "No," he said. "Why?"

Seldon shook her head. She was reeling. "Right before she climbed into that tube she was…" She paused and thought about it.

Drake rounded on her with a sudden, frightening intensity. "What?!" he demanded.

"Easy," she said. She could see the desperation in his face, and the confusion. "She didn't want me to let you see her," she explained, "when she was hurt."

He shook his head, not understanding. "Why?!"

"She said she didn't want to see the… err… 'disgust' in your face."

"'Disgust'?!" his eyes blazed. "Why the hell would she think I'd be disgusted?!"

"I don't know!" Seldon held up her hands. "I thought it was weird at the time, but…"

"But?"

"But I don't know, Drake! It was a really rough frakking night, alright?! She'd just been shot! Point-blank in the gut! While saving our skins! I guess I just thought she didn't deserve to be cross-examined right then, you know?! I mean I know how self conscious she is about the whole… you know… not being a real girl thing. So I guess I just figured it was her being her and that she'd feel better after getting some rest and," she shrugged and spread her hands, "some new skin." She shrugged again. "Then she was in the amnio tube and, well, other things were going on, you know?"

He stared at her for another moment and Seldon watched the pain and confusion tearing their way through him. In that moment she felt a sudden swell of emotion. It was so easy to forget how young he was. Most of the time he walked around behind a mask of grim determination. Then, all of a sudden, that mask would be torn away and there he'd be, little more than a teenage boy, naked and horrified at the sudden turn his world had taken. Looking at him she suddenly remembered a pretty young man she'd loved once; a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy named Josh, a boy who'd been good and decent, a boy who'd looked just as lost and confused as Drake the last time she'd seen him alive. For an instant she wanted to reach out and pull the kid close, to let him know that he wasn't alone, and that it would be all right. Then she remembered the three marines she'd never see again and hesitated. A moment later Drake turned away. The intensity faded from his face. His eyes grew dull and, like a drowning man slipping under the water, he disappeared behind the same listless expression he'd been wearing when she first came through the hatch.

"I don't know why she's gone, Seldon," he whispered, sounding like he was confessing to a crime. "And I don't know why she left without saying a word."

Seldon winced. She glanced around the room again. Out in the corridor a pair of medical personnel walked by. They were looking through the windows like rubberneckers at a traffic accident. Kao t'Kt glared at them until they hurried on their way. Then he glanced into the room and met Seldon's eye pointedly. She took a breath and nodded. Then she turned back to Drake.

"Come on," she said and clambered to her feet.

Drake turned a baleful gaze her way.

"Frank said you've been in here all night," she told him. "That means you haven't eaten. You haven't slept. And, judging by the smell, you obviously haven't bathed. So come on. Get up."

For a moment he just stared at her.

"Get up, Drake!" she barked at him. "You're a big boy now. You've got responsibilities. That means you have to take care of yourself."

His eyes narrowed and he dropped his gaze.

"Get the frak up, kid! Or do I need to call Frank in here to make you?"

He blinked and met her eye dubiously. Then he sighed heavily and looked around the room. Then he nodded and a moment after that he took the hand she offered. She hauled him to his feet.

For a moment he just stood there staring at the empty tube. Where the hell did you go, bitch? she wondered. She took a breath and deliberately thought of the tens of thousands of people now depending on this man for their livelihood. "Hey," she said.

He dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Hey," she said again and this time he met her eye. "I don't know why she left, Drake," she told him, "or where she's gone or why she didn't say anything before she left. But I do know this," she squeezed his arm, "that woman loves you."

He inhaled sharply as she said it. An instant later he trembled violently and looked away. A pair of tears spilled over his cheeks. He flexed his jaw and quickly wiped them away with the heels of his hands. Then he deliberately took control of himself with some measured breathing. After a few moments he met her eye again, and nodded.

"Come on," she said and guided him toward the hatch, "let's get you something to eat."

********

Odin waited until the dealer put all four of the hole cards on the table before looking. He reached out with one hand and pulled his cards close to the edge. A woman caught his eye from the other side of the room. She was willowy, with long, sandy brown hair and a playful smile. He gave her a smile of his own and an inviting wink. She laughed and turned back to her friends, all three of whom quickly looked from the bar to the poker table where Odin was honoring the deal he'd made with an 'old friend'. With his thumb he peeled back the corner of his two cards. His smile didn't grow or fade, but a subtle warmth bloomed in his eyes.

Across the table from him Oleg Grishanov was staring at his face with the intensity of a welding laser. Odin looked up and met the other man's eye. He glanced at the dwindling pile of chips in front of his opponent. Then he pointedly looked at his own, significantly larger stack. Then he met Oleg's gaze again and feigned sympathy for the other man's plight. If looks could kill Odin would be little more than a bloody smear on the carpet.

"Five thousand," he said laughingly and pushed five blue chips into the pot. The dealer quickly used his stick to gather the chips into the center of the table. Oleg continued to glare at him in an attempt to read his mind. Odin chuckled and looked back to the woman at the bar. There were three men with her and her group of friends now. She caught him looking and smiled over her drink again.

"The bet is five thousand," the dealer prodded Oleg. "It is your bet, sir."

"Check," Oleg said and further diminished the stack of chips in front of him to match Odin's bet.

"Player checks," the dealer stated, then lay a card down on the table. It was the jack of clubs.

A waitress walked past their table and Odin got her attention. "Yes, handsome?" she smiled at him.

"Don't call me handsome, love," he said, mocking a pout. "It makes me feel lonely." From the corner of his eye he saw the next card laid face up beside the jack. It was the three of clubs.

The waitress laughed at Odin's expression. "How does being called 'handsome' make you feel lonely?!" she asked him.

"Well," he said as the dealer lay down the last flop card, "if you come back after this game maybe I'll tell you." The third flop card was down. It was the Queen of Clubs.

The waitress opened her mouth to say something when the dealer cut her off. "Mister Rider?"

Odin glanced at the table and smiled. He shoved another five thousand into the pot. "Raise," he said, as if it didn't matter to him. Then he turned back to the waitress. "Can you get me a drink, love?" he asked her, bypassing the questions she wanted to ask him.

"Sure… " she stammered, not knowing what to call him. Odin showed her his best smile. "What would you like?" she finished.

He let the mischief glitter in his eyes and waited until she caught it. Just as her mouth was opening he cut her off again. "Three fingers of your best single malt," he said, "with just a dash of vermouth and a lemon twist."

Her mouth worked for just a heartbeat. Then she smiled at him. "Coming right up," she said, obviously intrigued.

When Odin turned back to the table Oleg was still glaring at him. The dealer was waiting to see whether Oleg would raise, check, or fold. Oleg narrowed his eyes as if he could see Odin's thoughts. Odin pressed his lips together in order to resist the urge to laugh in the other man's face.

Oleg's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Check," he said and matched Odin's raise. There were now less than twenty blue chips in the other man's stack.

The dealer dealt the turn. The jack of diamonds was laid upon the table. Both Oleg and Odin paused. Two jacks on the table. One of them with a matching Queen. Odin looked up and for a moment the two men simply stared at each other. Oleg looked nervous. Odin smiled warmly. After a moment Oleg's eyes twitched back to the queen on the table. It was only for a split second, about the same time it takes to blink, but Odin knew what he'd just seen. Oleg had a queen of his own. When the other man looked back up Odin let his smile grow just a little bit larger. He shoved another five blue chips into the pot.

"The bet is five thousand," the dealer stated. He turned to Oleg. "Mister Grishanov's bet."

Oleg's eyes flared angrily. He glanced at the pitiful remnants of his pile of chips, followed immediately by a slightly envious look at Odin's. Then he glanced at the queen on the board again. Then he looked at the two jacks and finally he looked at Odin with narrowed eyes. Then he went so far as to look at his own cards again, apparently to make sure they hadn't changed. Odin shook his head, still suppressing his laughter. Oleg glared at him. His eyes were as hard and cold as sapphires. "Check," Oleg said and matched the bet.

The waitress appeared at Odin's elbow and set a tumbler in the cupholder beside him. "Thanks love," he said with a glance and a smile

The dealer turned the last card on the table, completing the river. There was an immediate swell of stunned conversation from the small audience around them. The last card was the king of clubs. That meant the jack, queen, and king of clubs were all face up on the table. Oleg immediately looked from the table to Odin. Odin pursed his lips and grinned at the other man. Oleg, by then, was apoplectic.

"Mister Rider's bet," the dealer stated.

Odin simply shoved twenty blue chips into the pot.

"The bet is twenty thousand. The pot stands at fifty three thousand credits." The dealer turned to Oleg. "Mister Grishanov? Would you like to raise, call or fold?"

Odin took a sip of his cocktail while Oleg trembled across the table from him. There were veins throbbing in the other man's neck and temples. They formed a thin, throbbing V in the center of the man's forehead. Oleg was glaring at Odin so intently that Odin found himself a little worried for the other man's health. Oleg looked at the fifty three thousand credits in the pot. He looked at the cards on the table. Then he looked at Odin. Odin merely smiled. The waitress walked by to fill someone else's order and he admired the view. When he looked back to Oleg he wondered if a human being could explode from high blood pressure.

"What do you have, Odin?" Oleg asked him.

Odin laughed in the other man's face. "You know how to find out, Oleg."

Oleg trembled and then looked at the cards in the middle again.

"I'll tell you what, Oleg," Odin told the other man. "If you lose I'll spot you the cab fare back to the shipyard."

Oleg's eyes narrowed into slits. Odin could almost see the math taking place in the other man's head. Then Oleg looked at the last of his chips. He'd need to go all in to see Odin's cards. "Gah!" Oleg shouted and threw his cards down on the table. One of them flipped over and revealed the queen of spades.

"Player folds," the dealer stated, then turned to Odin. "Congratulations sir," he said and moved the fifty three thousand in chips to Odin's pile.

It was too much for Oleg. The big Russian jumped to his feet and started shaking his fist at Odin. "You are son of bitch, O'dann! How did you do it, eh? How did you get the hand?! I know you are a cheat! I KNOW you are!" People were turning all around the casino to find the source of the commotion. "Well?! What do you have?! Jack?! Royal straight?! What?!"

Odin smiled at the other man and flipped his cards over. He lay a two of hearts and a six of clubs side by side. The audience immediately burst out laughing. Oleg stared at those cards with his mouth open. "Nothing," the Terran breathed. "You have nothing." He slowly looked back up at Odin.

Odin winked at him.

"I hate you." Oleg whispered. Then his entire posture sagged. He turned to the dealer. "I am done. I will not play him anymore."

Odin laughed. "Oh come on, Oleg! You still have another…" Odin made a quick count, "…eighteen thousand to give me!" There were several chuckles from around the table. Odin smiled at the other man. Oleg briefly met his eye then turned away. He was the picture of a broken man.

"Aww," the waitress said from beside him. Odin took a swallow from his glass. Then caught the dealer's eye. "I'm done too. Cash me out, will ya?"

"Of course, sir."

Then he turned to the waitress. She wasn't quite the looker the sandy haired blonde at the bar was, but she was decidedly friendly. He grinned at her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"So," she asked him, "why does calling you handsome make you feel lonely?"

Odin grinned. "Well," he explained, "what do you call it when four people are having sex together?"

She blinked and opened her mouth, but was too shocked to reply.

"A foursome, right?" he suggested.

She laughed. "Yeah? That sounds about right."

"And three people having sex is a threesome?"

She laughed again. "Okay?"

"So when you call me handsome..." he shrugged.

It took her a second but when she got it she threw her head back and laughed loud enough to get the attention of people from all across the casino floor, including the blonde at the bar. "Oh, honey!" she said and shoved his chest. "You are a bad man."

"No love," Odin leaned in close, "I'm actually very good."

Her mouth dropped open and then she shoved him again. "Yeah, yeah," she said, "so they all say."

"Mister Rider?" a stern voice said from behind him.

Odin blinked, annoyed at the interruption. He turned and looked into the chest of a black and white suit. Then looked up at the three gorillas wearing them. 'Oh shit,' he groaned inwardly. "Gents?" he inquired tersely.

"I'll-ah," the waitress said from beside him, "see you later, honey."

Odin glanced at her as she fled. Then he turned back to the three large, intimidating suits. "You know you just ruined what was promising to be a very nice evening, don't you?"

"Our employer would like a word with you. Would you come with us please?"

"Uhmmm," he smiled his best smile. "No. No, I'm afraid I can't do that right now, son. You see I have a rule about going anywhere with hired muscle... especially when it was hired by somebody other than me..."

The closest suit offered him a private comm unit. Odin frowned at it for a moment. Then curiosity got the better of him. He collected the comm, put it to his ear and listened. Several moments later he handed it back to the suit.

"Alright, handsome," he said, "take me to your leader."

********

Tasha settled back into the hard cushions of the sofa and groaned. The muscles running down her back, over her left ribs, always held on until the last moment. The doctors kept telling her that there was no significant trauma remaining in the area. They said her ribs had repaired themselves perfectly and that there was no neurological damage. Yet whenever she was tired or stressed she always started to feel as if she'd just taken a shot to the short rib on her left side. It got hard to breathe and she kept finding herself anticipating the blinding pain of the break, like broken glass in her bones. She knew that it was all in her head, a lingering fear built into the trauma, but that didn't stop the tension or the aches it caused. So she forced herself to take a deep breath and willed her body to ease itself into the seat behind her.

As her body realized that there was no bolt of lightning waiting for her in her bones she looked up and glanced across the room. Drake was sitting just a few meters across the carpet, but he might as well have been light years away. Seldon took another deep breath and sighed. After watching him ignore his dinner for the better part of twenty mizura she'd finally sequestered him in this suite, mostly to avoid feeding the rumor mill and preserve fleet morale. Since then she'd started taking his calls for him. Soon after that she discovered that he'd blown off a meeting with Doctor Sol Jared, failed to return two of S'jar t'Chk's calls as well as one from Thane, not to mention those of Ea't s'Quid, H'nt c'Pu, Chinomu, Kayla, Yahanis Olandis Ugalirias the eighth, Captain of the Tarturus, a number of freelance freighter pilots that she hadn't even been aware he employed, at least a dozen people on his new complex in Savage Spur… and Hayla. Somewhere in the middle of it all she found herself looking at the lithe young man sitting quietly by the window with a new and profound respect.

She briefly tried to engage him by getting him to call people back, or at least to tell her what to say so she could relay instructions to the more important members of his staff, but it didn't work. It wasn't that he resisted. The boy just couldn't concentrate. She'd ask him a question and he'd start to answer, but after a sentence or two he'd just stop talking. And when she looked up she'd see him staring out into space again, wearing the same lost and slightly horrified expression that she'd found on him in the hospital. Eventually she just accepted that, for the time being at least, the kid was out of the action. So, not knowing what else to do, she called Hayla. Now she watched the clock and waited for the kid's mom to show up. Seldon glanced at the time again; 04:58. With a heavy sigh she wondered if she'd ever get around to having that drink with Dal.

Just then the hatch opened. She looked up to see Kao t'Kt stick his head in. The Split opened his mouth but before he could say anything Hayla ducked under his arm. "Oh get out of the way, will ya?" the woman snapped, shooing the big Split away with an annoyed gesture. Then she looked at Drake. For a moment there was just concern on the woman's face. Then Seldon saw the determination. Hayla turned and met her eye. Seldon got to her feet as the other woman approached.

"She just left?!" Hayla demanded in a whisper.

Seldon shrugged. "It looks that way, yeah."

"Why would she do that?!"

Seldon shrugged again. "I got nothin', Hayla. Sorry."

Hayla frowned, then looked at Drake. The kid hadn't even looked up. Hayla gave Seldon's arm a motherly squeeze and then immediately crossed the room to her son. When he didn't look up she started demanding his attention. When he didn't give it to her she insisited.

"Okay!" Drake whined. "Okay! Ow! OW! Stop!"

"Let me have a look at you!"

"Fine! Look! But lay off the-aow! Quit it!"

"Well look at me! Are you okay? Tasha called me and told me what happened."

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine! Just lay off the ears, will ya?!"

Seldon quietly made her way out into the hall. As the hatch closed she glanced at Kao t'Kt. "Hey," she said.

He nodded. "Latasha Seldon."

"So," she asked him, "you guys have romance, right? The Split, I mean."

He nodded.

"How do the Split deal with heartache?"

He turned to face her. His eyes burned the same color as Cherenkov radiation. "Split employ violence," he said and for a moment she just stared at him. She couldn't be sure but she thought there was a vast depth of emotion in the big Split that she could never quite see directly. She tried to hold his eye but a moment later he turned away and went back to guarding the corridor as if he expected an attack at any moment.

"Yeah," Seldon said, mostly to herself. "I suppose I could have guessed that."

********

"Stop that," Hayla smacked the back of Drake's head.

"What the…?! You stop it!" he roared at her. "What the hell was that for?!"

"You keep checking out, Drake!" she yelled at him. "You look out the window and just disappear! You're mid sentence, then 'poof!' You're gone!" She glared down at him. "So yeah!" she said. "I want you to knock it off!"

"Knock it off?!" he replied, as cold and scary as death. He'd gotten good at being cold. In her opinion he'd gotten too good at it.

"Yeah," she crossed her arms and leaned over him. "Knock it off! And knock off the tough guy act! Who do you think you're talkin' to, huh?"

His face softened and he had the decency to look ashamed of himself. "Sorry, Ma."

"Good," she huffed at him. "You should be." The kid dropped his gaze to the floor. When he didn't look back up she realized he'd checked out again and smacked him.

He growled, then rolled his eyes and glared at her.

"You can't run away from this, Drake!" she told him.

"I don't know what you want from me, Ma..."

"I want you to be here with me!" she told him. "Don't just check out and fade away. Be here! Look at me! Talk to me."

"I don't know what you want me to say," he said.

"Sure you do, or you would if you actually let yourself feel. Just feel it, Drake!"

"Feel what?!"

She held his eyes and sat down on the couch beside him. "Feel anything. Feel the hurt, Drake. It's not gonna move until you do."

He stared at her. Then he looked away. He turned toward the window. She immediately raised a hand to smack him again but he flinched and yelled at her. "Stop!" he barked. "Just stop."

"Not a chance," she said. "You can't run away from this, Drake!"

"I'm not running away!" he shouted. "I'm just…"

She waited.

He glanced at her. "I just…" His mouth worked. He looked away. "I just thought…"

"What?" she asked him. "What did you think?"

"I thought that…" He squinted at the carpet. "I thought that she was the exception."

"'The exception'? What does that mean? The exception to what?"

He stared out the window. "The exception to the rule."

"What rule? What are you talking about, Drake? Look at me!"

For a moment he didn't say anything and she was getting ready to hit him again when he turned and skewered her with a glare. His eyes were both wounded and accusing. "Sooner or later," he said, "everyone leaves."

Hayla felt as if she'd just been punched in the gut. He turned away and she stared at the side of his face, feeling the sudden hole in her heart. Slowly, she reached out and, after several tries, managed to touch the back of his head. He didn't flinch or pull away. Tears welled up in her eyes. "S-sometimes," she offered, "we come back." She felt tears spill over both her cheeks.

For a very long moment he didn't respond, and she knew that this time she wouldn't be able to call him back to her. Then, slowly, he turned and looked at her. First he looked at her lap, then he slowly met her eye. He reached out and wiped one of her tears away with his thumb. The faintest of smiles ghosted across his lips. "Aye," he whispered, "I guess sometimes you do."
Last edited by Scion Drakhar on Wed, 5. Jul 17, 00:37, edited 5 times in total.

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Post by Scion Drakhar » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 02:48

* I was encouraged to add this footnote for those of you who might be interested in some tangential learning. All of the absurd reasons for war in Chinomu's thought process were based on real events. So, in the interest of listing some of the more absurd reasons we human beings have found to kill each other:

sporting events - too many to list, from football (soccer) games to chariot races to marathon (old Greece) events. Human beings do love our sports.

A slaughtered pig - The Pig War; 1859 between American and British authorities on the islands of San Juan

The aptly named Pig War nearly saw an argument over a slaughtered swine lead to a full-scale conflict between the United States and Great Britain. The controversy began in 1859 on San Juan Island, a chunk of land located between the mainland United States and Vancouver Island. At the time, the island was home to American settlers and British employees of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and both parties had laid claim to its fertile soil. The first and only shots of the Pig War came on June 15, 1859, when an American farmer named Lyman Cutlar gunned down a British-owned black boar after he discovered the animal rooting through his potato patch. The ensuing argument over the dead hog increased tensions between the two groups of settlers, and Cutlar was eventually threatened with arrest.

After the Americans reported the incident to the military, the U.S. Army dispatched Captain George Pickett—later a Confederate general during the Civil War—to San Juan with a small complement of troops. Pickett upped the ante by declaring the whole island U.S. property, and the British responded by sending a fleet of heavily armed naval vessels to the coastline. An absurd standoff ensued, and the situation remained on a knife-edge for several agonizing weeks. The two nations would finally negotiate a deal allowing for joint military occupation of San Juan Island in October 1859, ending the Pig War as a bloodless stalemate—save for one unfortunate hog.

A stray dog - War of the Stray Dog, a Greek–Bulgarian crisis in 1925; In one of the most bizarre conflicts of the 20th century, a dog inadvertently triggered an international crisis. The incident was the culmination of a long period of hostility between Greece and Bulgaria, which had been at odds since the Second Balkan War in the 1910s. Tensions finally boiled over in October 1925, when a Greek soldier was shot after allegedly crossing the border into Bulgaria while chasing after his runaway dog.

The shooting became a rallying cry for the Greeks, who soon after invaded Bulgaria and occupied several villages. They were even set to commence shelling the city of Petrich when the League of Nations finally intervened and condemned the attack. An international committee later negotiated a ceasefire between the two nations, but not before the misunderstanding had resulted in the deaths of some 50 people.

A golden stool - The War of the Golden Stool; 1896 Great Britain and the Ashanti Empire (an African state on the Gold Coast); So there was this stool. It was an actual golden stool, belonging to the Ashanti Empire (an African state on the Gold Coast, not the estate of the R&B singer). The stool was sacred, believed to house not only the authority of the chief, but also the spirit of the Ashanti nation, as well as the souls of the living, dead and yet to be born.

So in 1896, the Ashanti King had been exiled, leaving the Ashanti people without a chief. Fortunately, the British Governor of the Gold Coast, Sir Frederick Hodgson, was there to help, in the way that the white man is always happy to do.

In March 1900, Hodgson entered the Ashanti capital and said that since the Ashanti lands were under the rule of the Queen, they had better fetch him this sacred Golden Stool so he could sit his ass right on it. "And probably fart on it," he might as well have added.

The locals sat there in stunned silence at this suggested ass-defiling of their heritage and custom, and when the speech finished, went home and rustled up as many weapons as they could find. Thus began the War of the Golden Stool.

The British sent some men out to look for the stool, and were surprised to find themselves under a vicious attack by a force led by Yaa Asantewaa (the mother of the exiled king).

The British column was nearly annihilated, and the survivors managed to scamper back to Kumasi and barricade themselves in their small fort on March 28th, 1900, spraying petrified fountains of poop with every step. Yaa Asantewaa laid siege to them for the next three and a half months with a force of up to 12,000 men.

The British had to bring in several thousand men, under the command of Major James Willcocks, as well as some serious pieces of hardware, to break through the cordon. They finally did on July 14, 1900. The besieged British had been trapped for three months, and had run out of food and ammunition and were in desperate need of fresh underpants.

In retaliation to the Ashanti's impertinence, Willcocks spent the remainder of the summer butchering local villages, razing towns and stealing land.

Though the Ashanti lost on the battlefield, suffered over 2,000 military casualties (plus many more civilians), were annexed, were brutally repressed and had their heads of state exiled, they still claimed to have won the war.

Why? Because through all of it, the British never got to sit on their frakking golden stool.


A severed ear - War of Jenkin's Ear; 1731 between Great Britain and Spain; In 1738, a British mariner named Robert Jenkins displayed a severed, decomposing ear before the members of Parliament. As part of a formal testimony, he claimed that a Spanish coastguard officer had sliced off his ear seven years earlier as punishment for smuggling. Spurred on by this stirring testimony, the British had soon declared war on the kingdom of Spain. Thus began the outlandish “War of Jenkins’ Ear.”

In truth, a clash between the British and Spanish had been in the works since the beginning of the 1700s, and Jenkins’ missing ear merely served as a convenient catalyst. The conflict had its roots in territorial disputes over the border between Spanish Florida and British Georgia, as well as the Spanish of boarding and harassing English vessels like the one captained by Jenkins. Fighting began in late 1739, and continued for two years in Florida and Georgia, with neither side emerging as the clear victor. The conflict later merged with the more expansive War of the Austrian Succession, which would not end until 1748.

A pretty girl's affections - supposedly the Trojan War; you all know this one. If you don't go see Troy with Brad Pitt, Eric Bana, and Diane Kruger.

A shaved beard - 301 Year War for Shaving a Beard.

The bearded King Louis VII of France married Eleanor Duchess of Aquitaine in 1137 and received two massive provinces in France as dowry. Later on, he went for the Crusades and upon his return, he presented himself to his queen clean shaven. Eleanor didn’t like his ugly clean shaven look and demanded that Louis grow his whiskers back. Louis furiously refused and the bitter resentment that followed resulted in divorce. Eleanor went to England where she married King Henry II. After her marriage, she demanded the return of her dowry land back. Again, Louis refused which resulted in King Henry declaring war on France that lasted for over 300 years.

The war lasted for 301 year from 1152–1453, France won the long and arduous war but at very high economical and collateral losses.

A pastry shop - The Pastry War 1838; In 1828, angry mobs destroyed large parts of Mexico City during a military coup. One of the victims of the rioting was an expatriate French pastry chef named Remontel, whose small café was ransacked by looters. Mexican officials ignored his complaints, so Remontel petitioned the French government for compensation. His request sat unnoticed until a decade later, when it came to the attention of King Louis-Philippe. The king was already furious that Mexico had failed to repay millions in loans, and now he demanded they pay 600,000 pesos to compensate the pastry chef for his losses. When the Mexicans balked at handing over such an astronomical sum, Louis-Philippe did the unexpected: He started a war.

In October 1838, a French fleet arrived in Mexico and blockaded the city of Veracruz. When the Mexicans still refused to pay up, the ships began shelling the San Juan de Ulua citadel. A few minor battles followed, and by December as many as 250 soldiers had been killed. The famous general Santa Anna even came out of retirement to lead the Mexican army against the French, and he lost a leg after he was wounded by grapeshot. Fighting finally ended in March 1839, when the British government helped broker a peace deal. As part of the treaty, the Mexicans were forced to shell out the 600,000 pesos—no doubt a large sum for a pastry shop at the time.

A drunken brawl - (probably several but I was thinking of:) The Battle of Karansebes, 1788 (Seriously, look this one up. It's hilarious.) In 1788, Austria was at war with Turkey. The Austrian army was marching down to clash with an advancing Turkish army in what is now Romania. Shenanigans ensued.

What happened was the Austrians set up camp for the night, and some scouts on horseback went out to check the immediate countryside for any armed Turks. They came across a band of gypsies with a shitload of schnapps for sale, which they eagerly bought and began drinking with a gusto rarely seen outside of a frat party.

A load of Austrian infantry were also out and about, and came across the group of scouts. They wanted to join the drinking. The boozy scouts refused and set up makeshift fortification in what probably seemed a really funny idea at the time. Things got heated, an argument broke out and someone got too excited and fired a shot.

All Hell broke loose, infantry and scouts firing wildly at each other. The infantry, in a state of confusion, began shouting that the Turks were attacking them. The scouts, even though it was they who were attacking their infantry, suddenly believed that there actually was a huge, swarthy, mustachioed Turkish army just behind them.

Filling their snazzy cavalry pants with rapidly escaping dinners, the scouts broke ranks and piled through the ranks of infantry. The infantry took this as a sign that the Turks were definitely there. They began a panicky withdrawal, all animosity forgotten in the face of the imaginary Turkish army.

Just when the whole affair couldn't get any stupider, it did. The Austrian army was made up of soldiers from several countries and they spoke different languages. So when the German-speaking officers started shouting "Halt! Halt!" in their own language, the non-German-speakers mistook it for cries of, "Allah! Allah!"

The whole frantic group of soldiers finally arrived back at the main camp. An officer there, in a moment of slapstick brilliance, reasoned that the charging, shouting men must be a Turkish attack, and ordered an artillery strike.

The entire camp then awoke to the sound of an enormous battle and they all did what every disciplined soldier would do at a time like this: ran away in different directions, firing wildly. The situation escalated until the army was called into a general retreat from the imaginary enemy. Finally, not wanting to miss out on the fun, the leader of the whole operation, Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II, got knocked off his horse and landed in a stream.

The only real winner here was magnificent stupidity. For a more tangible result, we'll say that the points went to the Turks, who arrived at the scene two days later to find almost 10,000 dead and wounded Austrians and, after they had all had a good laugh, promptly captured the town and surrounding countryside.

bird poop - The Guano War or War of the Pacific, 1879-1883 The Great Guano War, also known as the war of the Pacific, was a fight between Chile, Bolivia, and Peru. It happened between 1879 and 1883. In Spanish, Guano means bird dropping, so this was can be also considered a fight for bird poo. The truth is that guano contains high levels of nitrogen and phosphorus, which are really effective materials in manufacturing gun powder. Back then, the guano was worth gold. All this deposit of guano was located on the cost of the Atacama Desert. The war was won by Chile, due to its superior navy.

A female camel - Al Basoos War, 494-534, was a conflict for 40 years between two cousin tribes clans in Arabia of Late Antiquity which started by killing a camel which was owned by a woman called albasous. The Taghlib and Bakr tribes fought for roughly forty years (from 494-534 CE), locked in a perpetual cycle of vengeance. In parts of the Arab World today, the Basus War has been incorporated into an aphorism warning people against vendettas.

Honey - The Honey War was a 1830’s territorial dispute between Iowa and Missouri. The 9.5 mile long strip running across the border was the source of the dispute caused due by unclear wording in the Missouri Constitution on boundaries. The Governors of both states ordered their respective militia to patrol their side of the border, after a Missourian sheriff was incarcerated trying to collect taxes in the disputed zone. There was other incident where three trees containing valuable honey were cut down, hence the name Honey War.

The situation was on edge until Supreme Court intervened and declared the issue in Iowa’s favor.

Oak bucket - War of the Oaken Bucket between Bologna and Modena,
1325-37

This ridiculous war started over a stolen bucket. When a group of soldiers from the city of Modena in northern Italy invaded nearby Bologna to steal a brown oak bucket, thousands of citizens were killed. Bologna became angry and went to war with Modena to take back their bucket and restore their pride. The two cities fought for 12 years and thousands of lives were lost. Modena won the war; the people of Bologna never got their bucket back.

Religion - Don't even get me started.
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Post by Triaxx2 » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 04:47

You tried to close a Bold with an Italic in the middle of the card game. :D

Also, a pig was part of the impetus for the Hatfield/McCoy feud.
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Post by Scion Drakhar » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 05:07

Triaxx2 wrote:You tried to close a Bold with an Italic in the middle of the card game. :D

Also, a pig was part of the impetus for the Hatfield/McCoy feud.
Thanks. Fixed it.

And yeah, my list is only the smallest sampling of human absurdity.
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Post by Sirrobert » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 12:20

New update, praise [insert deity of choice]
And as is getting tradition now, I found a tiny detail that your other proofreaders missed:
"I've been thinking that you seem to like machining new parts. Do you like machining new parts, Yaz?"

The Teladi's grinned sheepishly. Her .
That sentence just cuts off.
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Post by Scion Drakhar » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 14:27

Sirrobert wrote:New update, praise [insert deity of choice]
And as is getting tradition now, I found a tiny detail that your other proofreaders missed:
"I've been thinking that you seem to like machining new parts. Do you like machining new parts, Yaz?"

The Teladi's grinned sheepishly. Her .
That sentence just cuts off.
Thanks. Fixed it.
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Post by Zaitsev » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 16:17

Hey, Scion's back! :D

That was quick. Or haven't you moved yet? :p
Scion Drakhar wrote:"So when you call me handsome..." he shrugged.
:rofl:

*cough*
*gasp*
Can't ..... breathe ......

Seriously, I laughed so hard I think I might have cracked a rib or two.

And as usual - SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! :D
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am :D

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Post by Olterin » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 22:48

... That was much sooner than expected, handsome :P

:rofl:
*gasp*
*cough*
:rofl:
*gasp*
Good one :D
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Post by Scion Drakhar » Thu, 11. Aug 16, 22:48

lol - Love ya, Z, Olterin.

Glad I could put a smile on your faces.

I have moved, actually. I am now in the country. I am also not as young as I used to be. The last time I moved myself I was much younger, much healthier... and had much more help. After the move I pretty much did nothing eat and sleep for two days.

As far as the writing goes... sometimes it's just easy.
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