Episode 118, Whale
22 Oct 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Episode 118, Whale
In-route to Bazin's Zenith Tourism Facility, Bamazin System
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Ceri couldn’t shake the confusion that had gnawed at her since her return to Meredith’s Type-8 first-class passenger ship. They had only spent one standard day ferrying business clientele when the sudden order came to return to Ryuko’s fleet carrier. The message had been clear: Meredith’s ship was scheduled for maintenance and module replacement. But to Ceri, the ship was already in pristine condition, and the idea of converting it from a high-end passenger liner to a mass cargo hauler made no sense.
The questions swirled in her mind as they made their way back to the carrier. On arrival, they were met by Tara and the Coterie, who were already seated on a maintenance cargo tram. The group was in high spirits, exchanging stories of recent heists, interdictions, and close calls with system security forces. Black market deals gone awry, cargo hauls slipping through interdiction points—everything she should have been doing.
Ceri felt a bitter pang as she sat surrounded by pirates, forced to play the role of a “bean counter” for business clients she used to terrorize. Just a few months ago, she would have been on the other side of these deals, holding hostages or shaking down traders for every last credit. Now, she was stuck catering to the very people she used to prey on.
Why am I here? The question echoed inside her mind, growing louder with each passing minute. She couldn't help but wonder if this was some part of a twisted penance, ordered by Ryuko or, worse, by Beau. The man ran a bar but was secretly the black market liaison for the pirate clan she had once been a part of. At first glance, it seemed like Ryuko had turned his back on Beau, but the more she thought about it, the more insidious the situation felt. Could this be part of some deeper punishment for losing her Anaconda to the same Type-8 ship she had just left behind?
The thought dug in, festering until her train of thought was interrupted. The tram pulled into a massive hangar, and her attention was drawn to the towering shape of a Beluga-class liner—a ship of such grand scale that its presence dominated the entire bay. The gleaming, silver surface of the ship reflected the harsh hangar lights, casting a majestic glow across the walls. Ceri found herself staring up in awe at the enormous vessel as the tram slowed to a halt near the far side entrance.
The size of the Beluga was mesmerizing, swallowing the space around it with its sheer volume. It was unlike any other ship she had been close to—so much more than just a liner. Ceri had seen luxury, but this was in a different league altogether.
The tram’s doors hissed open, and a small entourage of attendant androids awaited them. Tara and the Coterie were the first to step off the tram, followed by Ceri, her thoughts racing as they boarded a railed lift that slowly ascended toward the entrance of the Beluga. The yawning maw of the ship's entrance seemed large enough to swallow smaller vessels whole.
Ceri paused before stepping through the entrance of the colossal Beluga liner, her eyes tracing the ship’s hull. Something about it felt different, though she couldn’t pinpoint what. As she entered the ship’s interior, the differences became more obvious. For a vessel designed to epitomize luxury and status, this one felt oddly utilitarian. The flooring didn’t shine but seemed to absorb the light, and within its texture was a subtle, almost invisible pattern. The bulkheads surrounding her were similarly matte, with the same indistinct patterns running along them. Nothing reflected. The space felt... muted.
“It’s a kinetic-resistant thermo block,” Lianna’s voice cut through Ceri’s thoughts, and she turned in surprise, not having heard her approach. Lianna grinned as if she noticed Ceri’s confusion. “It prevents spalling if the hull gets penetrated. Laser weaponry won’t reflect off it either, and it absorbs most thermal effects.”
Ceri blinked, processing the information. She had been too distracted to notice her approach—a fact that only deepened her unease. Lianna stomped her boot twice on the deck, the sound barely registering. “Sound-absorbing,” Lianna continued with a grin. “Let's you sneak around if we get boarded. It’s also easier on the body if you’re bouncing around in zero gravity.”
Ceri shook her head, thinking back to when Ryuko had bested Meredith in a Dolphin—a small economy passenger ship not known for combat, and yet, Ryuko had outfitted it in ways that made it efficient in battle. It wasn’t just odd; it was unsettling. Just like how her powerful, combat-hardened Anaconda had been taken down by him in what she had dismissed as a "cargo cow." Now, standing inside this massive ship, Ceri wondered what other hidden surprises Ryuko had engineered into such an enormous vessel.
Tara approached them with a smile, her movements precise as always. The outer doors sealed with a soft hiss behind her.
“We’ll be departing shortly,” Tara announced casually. “Ryuko made reservations for all of us in a nearby tourism system.”
Ceri pressed a hand against the bulkhead, running her fingers over the subtle pattern, trying to anchor herself. The sense of being out of place, of being in the wrong world, had grown stronger since her arrival back on the carrier. What kind of pirate commander treated their crew like this? The pirates she knew spent their downtime in alcohol-soaked debauchery—prostitutes, gambling, roughing up captives, and indulging in vices that matched their chaotic lives. This, this lap of luxury—tourism facilities and spas—was alien to her.
Tara’s sharp eyes tracked the minute changes in Ceri’s body language: the rapid, shallow breaths, the quickening pulse, the way her hand moved restlessly along the bulkhead. Tara’s biometric sensors were picking up on the emotional storm brewing inside her.
“These changes must be difficult for you,” Tara said, her voice flat but not unkind. “This will be of no comfort now, but later you’ll see that this way is correct. You can still call yourself a pirate, Ceri—just a much smarter one than those who abandoned you after a single failure.”
Something inside Ceri snapped.
Her hand balled into a fist and she swung at Tara, the motion driven by raw emotion rather than calculated force. Tara’s reflexes were faster than humans, easily deflecting the blow with a simple block. But Ceri wasn’t finished. She screamed, lunging at Tara, her body slamming into hers as she grabbed hold of her. Tara didn’t move, her form unyielding as Ceri’s fists pounded against her. Instead of pushing her away, Tara wrapped her arms around Ceri in a tight embrace, pulling her close and holding her there, letting Ceri's fury crash against her like a storm.
Ceri’s screams turned to sobs, her entire body shaking as she fought against the pain and frustration welling inside her. Tara held her firmly, her arms strong but gentle, never letting go as Ceri cried.
Lianna, who had been watching from a few steps away, initially looked horrified, but her expression softened as she realized what Tara was doing. The scene before her wasn’t violence—it was catharsis. Tara was giving Ceri the space she needed to let it all out, to break down in a way she had likely never allowed herself to before.
For the first time, Ceri wasn’t the predator or the prey—she was simply a person breaking under the weight of everything she had carried for so long.
The Coteries were packed onto the spacious bridge of the colossal Beluga, admiring the sleek, opulent design that stood in stark contrast to the gritty, utilitarian ships they were used to. Ryuko sat in the pilot’s seat, casually watching the hangar bay doors as they parted, lifting the massive ship onto the launch pad. The ship’s autopilot kicked in, smoothly activating the thrusters and retracting the landing gear as it ascended from the carrier, gliding effortlessly into the vacuum of space. The ship veered onto the course set in the navigation computer, without Ryuko lifting a finger.
“At what point do you actually fly the ship?” Raven’s voice cut through the hum of the ship’s systems, drawing chuckles from the rest of the crew. The others began ribbing Ryuko as he unbuckled himself, a smile playing on his lips.
“Technically, I don’t have to fly unless I want to,” Ryuko replied, standing up and offering Raven a sly grin, his arm outstretched toward the pilot’s seat. “But since you’re so curious, why don’t you take the helm?”
Lysandra gave Raven a playful punch on the arm, fueling the good-natured taunts from the rest of the crew. Their banter swelled as Raven stepped forward, shooting Ryuko a cautious look before easing himself into the pilot’s seat. His hands hovered over the controls, hesitating.
“This thing is larger than anything any of us has ever flown,” Raven muttered, his fingers tightening on the controls. “Except you.”
Ryuko lowered himself into the co-pilot’s seat beside him, his hand deftly disabling the autopilot. “She isn’t your Krait Phantom,” Ryuko said, glancing sideways at Raven, “but she’s more responsive than you’d expect. Go ahead—ring her out and get a feel for her.”
The others quieted down slightly, their attention shifting to Raven, who steeled himself. The Beluga-class liner may have been a luxury vessel, but it was still a ship designed for more than just smooth rides. As Raven grasped the controls, the weight of the massive liner beneath him felt intimidating—but as Ryuko had hinted, it moved with surprising grace.
Raven nudged the controls gently, and the Beluga responded, accelerating smoothly. “Wow…” he muttered, his eyes widening. “This thing moves better than I thought.” He glanced back at the others with a grin.
Encouraged by Ryuko, he pushed the ship into a series of more confident maneuvers, testing its agility while the Coteries watched in amazement. Despite the ship’s bulk, it handled well, cutting
through space with an ease Raven hadn’t expected.
Ryuko sat back, arms folded, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “Told you,” he said, watching as Raven deftly handled the massive Beluga liner, guiding it through space with an ease that belied the ship’s size. The usual bravado that filled the Coteries’ chatter was replaced with genuine awe as they marveled at the ship’s agility. Even Raven, who rarely let himself be impressed, couldn’t suppress his appreciation.
“This thing has to have massive thrusters for it to move the way it does,” Raven remarked, his hands gliding over the controls.
Ryuko nodded, his eyes fixed on the engineering readouts displayed on his monitor. “All of the Saud Kruger passenger ships are built with incredible thruster power. They had to be, considering the clientele they’re meant to serve. You never want a luxury liner like this struggling to dock or maneuver around orbital stations. They can reverse just as fast as they go forward, and the yaw thrusters are top-notch for precision landings.”
Raven continued to test the ship’s limits, pushing the massive craft through tighter turns and testing the boost capabilities. “It handles better than anything this size should.”
Ryuko's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he placed his hands on the controls. “You want to see something you’d never expect?”
Raven shot him a cautious glance, slowly releasing his grip from the controls. Ryuko nodded his grin still firmly in place, and motioned with his head toward the rest of the crew.
Raven turned to look at the Coteries, who were still marveling at the ship’s interior, oblivious to what was about to happen. At that exact moment, Ryuko disengaged the flight assists computer, then slammed the boost thrusters and yanked hardback on the controls. The Beluga flipped with an impossible swiftness for its size, its massive hull spinning to face the direction they had come from, all while continuing to drift forward.
The sudden shift in momentum caused the artificial gravity to momentarily relax, sending the crew floating off the deck for a brief, disorienting moment. When the gravity snapped back on, they crashed back down, their boots thudding against the plating as each of them stumbled, struggling to regain their balance.
Raven erupted into roaring laughter as he steadied himself, the sound filling the bridge. The others, initially bewildered by the sudden maneuver, glanced at one another before bursting into laughter themselves.
“That,” Raven said between breaths, “is not something I’d expect from a ship of this size.”
Ryuko chuckled, the grin still on his face as he released the controls. “Your controls. Take us to our destination.”
Raven nodded, placing his hands back on the controls, still grinning as he guided the massive Beluga toward its next jump.
Unbeknownst to the crew, a blacked-out ship drifted silently eight kilometers away, concealed in the dark expanse of space. The Beluga’s immense size made it a striking target, easy to spot visually from much farther than a smaller vessel. However, the lurking ship remained undetected, its heat signature well below the threshold of the Beluga’s sensors.
The Beluga’s thermal signature flared as its jump engines spooled up, igniting in preparation for hyperspace. With a flash of light, the ship shot forward, disappearing into the void. In its wake, a brief distortion in normal space flickered and then slowly dissipated—a temporary trail left behind, one that any ship equipped with a wake scanner could follow, pinpointing both its trajectory and intended destination.