The Rats of Rati Irtii
03 Aug 2019Extremofire
It is unorthodox for a prominent Imperial officer to mingle with criminals. But drastic times call for drastic measures.I write this from the dark and twisted realm of Rati Irtii, a system on the fringe of independent space. It is one of the most desolate places I have ever visited... though perhaps not in distance from humanity, but distance from civility.
The Imperial Navy has received intel that the Federation intends to establish a field office in the hive of wretched scum and villainy. It is the assumption of those in the Imperial High Council that this is an attempt to undermine Imperial borders; indeed, Rati Irtii is comparatively close to the security garrison of Regira, under direct control of Admiral Denton Patreus. It is the mission of the Imperial Navy to directly and indirectly undermine the Federal influence in the system to prevent the establishment of a garrison.
But from what I have seen in this night alone, I wonder if the Federation will thrive in the slightest here. Of the system's three million inhabitants, a harrowing 1.5 million are the infamous Gold Dragons, the massive organization that considers Rati Irtii it's territory and home. The Dragons have established a reputation that makes me shudder.
Perhaps it is necessary to illustrate my misgivings directly.
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I arrived in-system at 2345 on 2 Aug. Immediately, I felt a feeling of dread from the ominous brown dwarf, which shed barely any light on the numerous signals my computer was already detecting. Already, my computer detected weapons fire in multiple directions. Upon initiating scans of these signals, it appeared Gold Dragon ships were engaging random vessels, Federal or otherwise. Taking some comfort in the heavy armaments of my warship, the LLV Vocare Vacui, I hastily made my way to the primary starport, McMonagle Hub.
After dropping in, my heart sank. Immediately as I approached the station, my comms went abuzz with a man with a heavy drunken drawl. The station was controlled by the Dragons themselves. No patrol craft were in sight. The primary hub here in Rati Irtii was governed by this disgusting villainy.
"Oy, Core Dynamics... 528? What sort of cock-'n'-balls designation is that then?"
"Just admiring whats here, my friend. Requesting docking permission."
"So am I, now.. Best you land that pretty ship quick."
I drew my pulse rifle from under my console, and charged it. I was ready for a fight, if thats what they wanted. I've been in scraps like this before; petty criminals who thought they could take on a trained Imperial agent. Sure, maybe the whiskey numbed the reflexes, but hell, lets do it. I--
Before I realized it, I had autonomously landed my ship. I shot up and ran towards my airlock, rifle in hand. It opened, and I held it steady by my waist. However, I was greeted by a pair of unassuming younger gentlemen. I brushed off my disguise, a posh but functional brown coat and dark green cotton pants, comfortably fit over my flight suit.
"Evenin', sir. I suppose you would like a tour ...The weapon is fine, but not necessary, I assure you."
Not responding, I held my rifle steady. I looked into the young man's eyes. I sensed sincerity... perhaps I had underestimated what was clearly still a coordinated port.
"Lead the way. I require room and board."
"Excellent, sir. An Imperial accent? What brings you this far out?"
I gulped. The signature accent of our culture can make it difficult to do covert operations.
"You must be mistaken. I just need a stiff drink... and I'm looking to make some money."
The man smiled. I was sure it wasn't often that criminals find a vessel commander so willing to lend such massive firepower. Of course, I had a mission to attend to. As an Inquisitor of the Kamadhenu Chapterhouse of Inquisition, it was my standard modus operandi to esablish a base of operations with locals in the system, whether or not it was our intention to destabilize their governance. Our directive was always to establish a network of trusted contacts... in case things went awry.
"Of course, sir. I am Prospect Penn. Perhaps, after some accomodations, you would like to meet my superior? He is one of the proprietors here, and a respected Dragon."
"Prospect, I would love that."
The Prospect led me down a few corridors of the musty starport. The air was stale, as if far too many men had taken panicked breaths in these halls. I noticed a shadowy figure following closely behind us, staying a close distance behind, illuminated by the barely working hall lights. Eventually, we found our way into a similarly lit taverna. I ordered what was admittedly a wonderous local delicacy; Zeta Whiskey, a spirit brewed in the allegedly sprawling metropolis of Zeta Telescopii. Appreciating the oaky ichor, I almost was surprised by a tap on my shoulder.
"Greetings, sir. I am Prospect Guillermo Sexton. And you are..?
"Ignis Montis, Prospect Sexton. Well met."
"What brings you to my exciting abode?"
"Well, I was told this is a beautiful place for a well-armed pilot to cause some trouble for the Federation."
Prospect Sexton smiled. It was clear he sympathized with my apparent distaste of the Federal Agents suddenly flooding their system.
"Such a place, this system indeed is, Mr. Montis," he said, chuckling. "The Federation's presence here can only mean one thing: the downfall of the Dragons. Already we resist them, but I fear more agents will be sent." His face suddenly turned more serious. "I have already lost seven men to this conflict. But many of us would rather die than have Federal Agents make their home here."
I sipped my whiskey, and smiled back. "Then it seems we have similar ideas. I would lend my assistance to the Dragons... if I could perhaps be given some safe quarters."
"Well, if thats all you ask, Mr. Montis, we shall provide," Prospect Sexton quipped. "Meet me tomorrow at this location," he pressed a few buttons on a pad, "...and we will discuss particulars."
The next morning, I went to his office. It looked as unwelcoming as the tavern I had found myself in the night before. He stood up, shook my hand, and immediately got to business. Pacing around his desk, avoiding eye contact, he piped up, proudly. "I have spoken to my superior, Martin Odom. We must coordinated with our sympathetics across Rati Irtii to best arm them for resistance." He looked at me with an intense stare "Mr. Montis, your arrival and willingness to assist has concerned some of us. But there are few things that you can do that anyone can be trusted with." He handed me a pad with instructions. "My men have prepared a large shipment of weapons and equipment, to be delivered to our friends and fellows at Fox Depot. Take the cargo to the depot, and return to me." I smiled. "Simple enough." He laughed, and said, "I am sending Prospect Penn with you. I expect a report by the end of the day."
After some Dragons loaded my ship with sixty canisters of weapons, giving me an hour or so of free time to down more of the Zeta liquor, Prospect Penn went with me aboard my ship, and we cast off.
Almost immediately, I was interdicted in transit by a commander Daniel Ghari. I submitted, and his voice immediately echoed through my PA. "Imperial vessel, surrender the weapons immediately."
I looked at Penn, nervous that my cover had been blown. But he looked incredulous. "This guy has no idea who you are, Mr. Montis." I chuckled nervously, and suddenly the ship was rocked by a hail of gunfire. I deployed hardpoints, and span around. "No, you," I said into my comms panel, unleashing a comparatively hellish volley of cannon fire and pure energy. Daniel Ghari's Krait Phantom was immediately disabled, floating adrift in the void. Penn was clearly excited. "Well, that was vast," he said, excitedly. "I know what I'm doing," I said, smiling.
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The resistance to the Federation has already begun, and is strong. These criminals, though they are indeed scum, are coordinated. How else could they have gained control of an entire star system?
I hope to make some friends amongst them... for the Empire. I'll feed these rats of Rati Irtii, if they can use their strength to fight back. We have a common enemy, and through that connection, we will thrive.