Going Large
01 Apr 2021Dixon-Phyre
Sometimes, Mikael reflected, it was nice to be wrong. He grinned as Shard circled slowly around Forester's Choice. Well, he thought, the newscasts only mentioned an outpost. Never said anything about a bloody great agricultural installation right on top of it!The comms unit bleeped as he was granted access. He let the autodock take the Cobra in and settle in the pad, a clunk reverberating through the ship as the landing restraints engaged.
Sold sixteen tonnes of land enrichment systems - bought the maximum allowance of eleven canisters of Apa Vietii.
Once loading was complete, he took off again; there was always a queue to dock here, and his business was concluded. Headed away from the bustle of Forester's Choice, to go pay his respects to the ancient generation ship hanging thirty k away. The Golconda hung before him; he stood and saluted her, with no irony whatsoever. Like many others, he had wondered what would happen to this old survivor. It appeared that she would be maintained, not to fly any further, but just to live. As a thank you for her service. He brought out a bulb of the liquor, took a generous mouthful. Swallowed and cackled. “Oooh...that is pretty damn good!”
Shard turned on her axis and accelerated away. There were things he needed to attend to. Well, one thing. He had done quite well for himself during the Borann diamond rush. Refitted his Clipper, Sublime Machine, for mining; whilst not the most efficient at that task, she had the advantage that any dumbass pirate after her cargo was inevitably left standing when he floored her. He had sat and stared at his suddenly inflated bank balance for a while, and saw off a couple of bottles of Merlot. Thought about it a bit more, then said “fuck it”. He was still a bounty hunter, at the end of the day, and to pull down the big scores needed a suitable ride. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Danger of Death any more; although maybe some pilots could fly a smaller ship against the big bastards, he wasn’t one of them. Besides...the Fer-de-Lance was kind of special now. Sacred. Hah. Because of her. Cody. Commander Kodeyne. Ophelia Myshkin. It was where they had ended up after meeting – again - by chance(?) and spent quite a few hours having what could only be described as amazing sex. And then parted, knowing that was it…
Several jumps later, Shard dropped into the Skeggiko O system and headed for Kuo Terminal. His home base now, although he was seriously contemplating relocation after it became a vendor system for the new Drake-class fleet carriers. It was like waking up one morning in your quiet planetside home to suddenly find a truck stop right on the doorstep.
Cruised into the docking bay and touched down. Stowed the Cobra and made his way to another hanger, striding along the walkway and contemplating his new investment. It was big. Broad. To be frank, even with a custom paint scheme and a ship kit, it was ugly as hell. He did not care. Mikael had decided he deserved a bit of a break, wanted a ship that could do most of the work for him. And so he had taken delivery of a second-hand Lakon Type-10 Defender. Compared to what he was used to, it steered like a dying cow in treacle, although not nearly as bad as some would have you believe. Covered with engineered burst laser turrets and a long-range cannon on the hardpoint below the cockpit so he had something to fire off if he felt like it. He had also decided to fit a fighter bay, and that meant recruiting a pilot…
He sighed and scratched his head. What was it with fighter pilots that most of them were so full of bullshit? That afternoon, he had heard every kind of boast, and was starting to despair.
“Once, I took out two pirates with one heat-seeker. Maybe one day I’ll tell you how I did it.”
No you won’t, you lying git, because you didn’t.
“I took plenty of scalps in that conflict!”
So how come you’re still rated Harmless?
He had smiled politely, and sent each one on their way. One more to go, and then maybe he would try a different station, a different system.
He had hired a private room in a bar for the interviews, mainly because it was more relaxed. And it meant everyone involved could have a drink, which helped loosen tongues. He glanced at his wristerm; the final candidate for today should be here any -
There was a tentative knock on the door. “Enter!” he called, and rose to greet the newcomer. The door opened and he caught his breath as a woman, maybe a few years older than him, stepped through. She wasn’t stunning, but her round face was undeniably sensual and drew the eye. Long straight black hair to the shoulders and curves in all the right places.
Dammit, man, you’re interviewing for a fighter pilot! Put your hormones to one side!
Annabel Landers. Softly spoken, but confident and totally honest about her skills and shortcomings. Her eyes never left his face for the whole interview, and at the end, when he offered her the job, her cheeks flushed slightly and a smile lit up her face.
“Shakedown flight is 0900 tomorrow. The fighter is a GU-97 Rogue-F. See you in the morning.”
“Aye aye, Commander. 0900 it is.”
As she left, Mikael leant back in his chair and let out a long breath. He had no doubt she was up to the job, but somewhere deep in his mind, alarm bells were trying to be heard...