Shadows and Dust
04 Feb 2020Rex-Cramer
Hauling in the last of 3 loads in my T-9 I notice, for the 3rd time this day, a T-6 that's been docking where I dock quite frequently lately. I've been making mostly cargo runs and wrote it off as another hauler pushing containers. Having seen it now again all day today it's making my hair stand up a bit. So I take a little time and do a very thorough inspection of my bird and keep an eye on his bay. Every time I look that way, he's looking this way. Tall guy, looks like a bean-pole so guessing he's been out in low-G for a while. Blond hair and clean shave. Hard to see more from this distance. I make a note of the guy and wrap up my inspection. Ride the platform down and put the bird to bed for the night. 15 million banked on that run.Headed to a sports bar of sorts to watch that weird low-G version of racquetball they play here. Looks like a cross between ballet and racquetball with the flips, spins, and leaps. It didn't take long. My admirer walked back and forth four times but finally decided to come in and pull up next to me at the bar. Kayley and Edwin were both on another station so I was here without backup and this guy is now making me nervous.
"How's it going there", he asks after a few minutes?
"Not bad", I said turning to look. He was an Asian looking guy and I could see he was working hard to keep his face looking friendly. "Been hauling the mail, you know", I said.
"Yeah, I was surprised to see you in that fat tub actually", he said with a bit of edge to it.
"Why is that", I asked?
"Well, you are quite the name over in my home system", he said.
"Oh. What name is that then", I asked now starting to get an ominous feeling from the direction this is headed.
"Rex Cramer, flying Frodo. You know that Challenger you fly when you aren't pretending to be a cargo pilot", he said. Now hostility is bubbling out.
"Okay. Well, that's me. I don't 'pretend' to be anything my man. I do what needs doing for the cash like the rest of us", I said turning around. "Is there some beef between us"?
Like a switch flipped on his face turned red and I braced for what was surely coming from his pocket: a knife, or a gun. I was way behind the curve though. Just bad preparation on my part. Instead of weapon, out came a photo and he slammed it down on the table.
"Yes, you son-of-a-bitch, we have a beef. That's my brother. My brother that you and that fucking Challenger with it's cute name vaporized for... for money", he barked out and the place was suddenly silent all around me.
I looked at the picture. I'm not sure why I did that because this guy clearly had a plan to end me tonight but I looked still. It could have been his twin but just a bit younger. Tall kid, maybe 5 years younger, blond hair, big smile standing next to a Cobra III in a black RemLock suit, helmet under his arm. Ship looked factory new with graphite paint. Plasma and rail visible on the near hard points. The man next to me was still poised, like a trigger waiting for that last ounce of pressure to set off the violence. But I still kept looking at this kids picture. It was the very essence of a fighter jock. Proud. Cocky. At ease but obviously excited to be in this new ship. A still-frame of the very youth I'd always had dreams of but never had. Before I knew I was going to say it... it was said:
"What was his name"?
The tall fellow didn't react. Blinked and cocked his head a bit and sputtered out "What"?
"What was your brother's name", I repeated?
After a long pause again, his shoulders dropped, just a bit. "Hiroji", he said. "His name was Hiroji".
Sensing that just a tiny bit of the pressure on that trigger was removed, I pressed on: "Was that his ship"?
His eyes watered a bit and he answered after a pause "Yes. He'd just bought it to join the militia in that picture".
I kept it going. Asking about the young man in that picture. At first as a successful de-escalation and then soon because I couldn't stop. I wanted to know more as though by having this all spoken we could bring that kid back to life here in the bar. Conversation around the room slowly started to recover. I learned that Hiroji and Choki were from a system I'd recently been very active in doing security work for the company. They bought into the local gang's propaganda and joined the fight on the other side. Choki had put together just enough to run arms in his small Type-6 because combat was not his game. He looked up to his little brother who was always the fighter in the family. Hiroji had borrowed the money to put together the Cobra and spent weeks getting it outfitted. He'd payed it off through combat bonds after showing he was no slouch as a combat pilot. Hiroji's ship was destroyed by mine and a final rail shot through the cockpit killed him moments before it exploded. No chance to eject. The more Choki described him the more his emotion went from anger to pride.
The kid had had a tough ship and quite a few kills to his name but he punched above his weight class attacking the Spec-Ops ships which I was working with and got overwhelmed in seconds as his brother described it. The family was shredded by his loss and his father was angry at Choki for not keeping his brother out of trouble (as though he could have) so he was not on speaking terms with his parents at present. I never apologized. Sorry won't bring his brother back and sounds in-genuine in such a circumstance anyway. Instead I ordered a round of shots and we toasted Hiroji. A kid that put it all on the line for what he believed in deserved a good salute. That salute was repeated a few too many times.
We didn't part friends, but I parted with respect for him and his brother and little more of my soul missing I suppose. I stopped at the hangers and ordered some new paintwork. Frodo had a new name. "Yokai". A Japanese word roughly meaning "Ghost" or "Phantom". That kid's ghost may be with me forever now, and no doubt more to come.
I ordered the ammunition resupplied as well. The wheel keeps turning.