Cmdr Ouberos
Role
Diplomat / Researcher
Registered ship name
tramp steamer
Credit balance
-
Rank
Elite
Registered ship ID
Python OU-23P
Overall assets
-
Squadron
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Pranav Antal

Logbook entry

Black Omega and the five Imperial Princes

17 Jan 2017Ouberos
It's a well known fact that an Imperial Princeling is a predictable creature. If he isn’t hungry then he’s horny and if he isn’t horny he’s likely shagged himself to sleep. It was this little gem which helped me come up with my most recent criminal venture. At the time it seemed low risk and I liked the look of the potential upside on the profit.

But then, If I had a credit for every time Id learned something in hindsight eh?

To young Imperials the concept of the Grand Tour is a romantic coming of age ritual. They network about it incessantly and either call it a ‘Gap” year or label it as “Finding themselves”. They Holog about it and the good looking ones or the ones whose Holo logs’ end in disaster become famous. If you ask me it’s just privileged inbreds doing pretentious shite, but Kara, my beautiful and sociopathic apprentice; loves these Hologs so much she has hacked a couple of top level Imperial Networks so she can broadcast them as box sets in some of the systems we have become friendly with. They seem popular with kids her age and I have to admit she is making some good numbers off them. Technically I suppose it is Piracy but it’s not quite what I had in mind when I found her in the Asylum and gave her the option of a new career.

So I was studying the markets one morning, looking for economic booms and planning a simple diamond hunt. Truth be told, I was in the hole and needed some quick credits to cover Marra’s tithe. The bad news was that the payment was already a couple of days overdue. You see my Python, The Jolly Roger had bitten the big one a few nights prior and I was down four large on the reprint. Any other week it wouldn’t have been an issue but I’d invested about twenty mill in another combat Vulture for the war against the Camorra and I’d also put a good dollop of credits on a DBx which had come in useful on some planetside contracts, but when you add them all up it meant I was looking at the wrong end of an empty tax return and that sort of thing can get you in a whole world of trouble out here in the Pegasi sector. One thing you don’t want is the dread Pirate, Marra Morgan come calling looking for her dues.  You can trust me on this one kids when I say it was playing on my mind.

So there I was, Orange juice in hand, scrolling the systems and all I can hear is some porn from the other side of the breakfast bar. Kara’s laughing her ass off and flips the holo to open stream so I can watch these five naked Princes flopping about on a bed with an ugly courtesan old enough to be their grandmother.

“This is going out live,” she says and connects it to her network. Later I check her advertising revenue from that one stream and decide to start charging her rent.

Apparently the Prince with the dyed blue pubes is related to you know who and is on a grand tour of debauchery. Call me a jaded old man if you like but I seem to remember being debauched and frankly by my standards this guy was missing the mark. That's when the big idea hit me. I could tell right from the start it was a good one. It had everything, sex, drugs, Pirates and Imperial Royalty.

“Do we know anyone with a Beluga?” I asked Kara. “I've just had a great idea,”

                                                                                                                                          *


Turns out we did know someone but surprisingly Black Omega’s resident religious leader wasn't that keen to lend me his Billion credit investment and as you probably know, stealing a ship is supposed to be impossible. There are at least a dozen checks and barriers in place to make sure that the Pilot matches the registration documents. You could argue that eradicating grand theft starship is what the Pilots Federation licence exists for. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details of how we did it, hell that's a tale of its own. All you need to know is that it wasn't long before we were dropping out around the star in a passenger liner that was probably in the top 1% of passenger liners.

At that point I only had half a plan. I knew where I wanted to end up but wasn't 100% certain of the route. A lot of the plan would have to be done on the fly but i've been involved in misdirection and infiltration for a while so I figured we could wing it. At this point you should understand I wasn't always a Diamond thief.

The other parts of the plan, the things I could control were already in place. For a start we had the appearance of respectability and between us Kara and I had all the right skills and more than enough resource thanks to our recent acquisition.

The easy part went down like this.
                                                                                     
                                                                                                                                 *



Prince Jorg stared defiantly at his opponent over his three cards. He had a pair of nines and Jack of Novae. He’d been counting cards since before he could read and he knew the fool with the antique clothes and the small pile of credits couldn’t have anything better than a couple of sevens or a collection of inconsequential monarchs. He suppressed a giggle at the the thought and kept up his best angry poker face. When would the peasants learn that cards was the sport of kings?

Behind him his entourage were behaving atrociously with a bowl full of locusts from Karsuki Ti.

“Hudson, make sure you record that. When Siko finally inherits I want to play that at his coronation,” he commanded, casting a glance over his shoulder. There was some more laughter but then Timon began whining about being bored and started demanding they leave. Technically Timon and Jorg were of the same rank but they both knew Jorg was the leader. Even so, protocol demanded he did not ignore him and it was never a good idea to give Timon’s over protective father a reason to hate you. Besides he had beaten the peasant already.

With a bored roll of his eyes Jorg pushed his entire stack of credits onto the table. He would raise the peasant into oblivion and move on to the next adventure.

“But, I can’t match that,” the miserable man wailed. “That’s not fair, I have a killer hand, you have to give me a chance to win back my clients commision!”

Which wasn’t what Prince Jorg wanted to hear. The one thing he hated worse than a card cheat was a poor loser. Complaining about money as well, what a bore. The laughter behind him died and his pals began to take note of the card game again. They would be judging him now he knew. The way he dealt with this rude little fellow could be used against him in the future. A big part of him wanted to have the man whipped, but he was a visitor to this world and deigning to play cards with the man had been radical enough. The long years spent at his cousin's court had tempered some of his violent urges.

Prince Jorg shrugged in as casual a manner as he could and made to stand. The card dealer reached out with their pole to scoop up the credit chips and end the game.

“Wait,” shouted the man and he jumped up in a panic. In response Jorg’s handlers emerged from the shadows of the room. There were three of them, but they carried the mass of six normal men. They rolled into view around the card table and blotted out the light.

“My ship! Let me bet my ship, it’s a Beluga,” the man blurted out and flashed an ident card with the unmistakable Saud Kruger logo. “It’s A spec with an Emperor’s level of opulence. Its fit for a Prince such as yourself,” he begged and Prince Jorg did pause for a second.

“House rules forbid it,” said the dealer which settled it for Jorg. The man was about to make another plea when Timon spoke up from over Jorg’s shoulder.

“Finally a bet worth making, I think you should play Jorg, this little worm has insulted you. Take his ship and we can ditch that damn Cutter my father gave us. Think of the whores we could fill that Beluga with,” he said and with that Prince Jorg changed his mind. After all a Beluga did have a lot more cabins than a Cutter.

“I’m sorry my lord, but the house rules forbid any other bets than credits. If you want to play high stakes you will have to take it outside,” the dealer interjected politely despite being sandwiched between the two biggest of the handlers.

“Gambling in the street?” Jorg asked, genuinely shocked that the fellow had even suggested it. Even Timon made a disgusted sound. The matter seemed closed.

“Why not come aboard and we can continue the game there?” said the man with the Beluga at just the right time. Timon applauded and slapped Jorg on the shoulder.

“Done! Let’s go and give this new flying brothel of ours the once over,” he said and the entourage cheered at the prospect. Even Prince Jorg had to admit, things were looking up.

                                                                           *


Like I said, that was the easy part.

Finding the Prince was as simple as tracking down his latest Holog. Kara had watched Jorg long enough to know he was a sucker for a card game, so we'd done some figuring and I'd bribed my way into the most likely places he would visit. Then before the game began I'd paid the dealer at the table so he wouldn't actually let me bet the Beluga. After that it was just a matter of looking like a slightly drunk, high rolling mug and putting it about that I probably didn't know much about cards. Which of course was a lie.

Not long into the game I discovered Jorg actually was, an awful card player and I'd had to resort to reverse cheating in order to lose so badly. Luckily he was wrapped up in the antics of his friends so much that I was able to switch my hand. Twice.

Once I had got them back to the Beluga all we had to do was neutralize the Handlers and “convince” the Princes they needed to cross the entire bubble and come back to the Pegasi sector with us.

What could possibly go wrong?


                                                                                                                                    *


Ouberos used the bone mic to update me on the success of the first part of the plan and I  actually punched the air and whooped, finally I was going to meet Prince Jorg. Me, in the same ship as Debauched Jorg and his loyal band of Cocksmen. They would be definitely be broadcasting too. It was going to be the Holog event of the millenia. I had a completely insane level of excitement and ran from one end of the ship to the other, rushing along the edge of my mania, feeling it inside my chest like a tightly clenched bomb of potential.

There was still plenty to do though. I needed my costume on for a start and Jorg had three Goons with him. They would have to be dealt with quickly. Ouberos had said I needed to pacify them and I'm fairly certain that means kill them quietly. Knives would do it. Knives. I needed knives, knives, knives, knives, knives, knives knives. It took me another lap of the ship to realise the voice I was hearing was my own. I had been shouting what was on my mind again.

I stopped with the running when I reached my cabin and breathed out heavily while looking quickly around the room for my five things. Counting them I moved onto the four things and then the three and the two and I was finally grounded when I reached the one.

“Knives,” I said just for the cameras and then opened my knife draw. So much shiny.

When they came aboard the Goons immediately tossed the ship. They went from end to end looking for threats. They were good too and I only avoided being found by body checking the biggest. At one point I could have whispered in his cauliflower ear I was so close. I backed off after he had checked my hiding place and turned away. Silence has always been a hobby of mine. Ouberos thinks I must have some augmented balance skills or something. I like that he thinks Im special.

Once the Goons had satisfied themselves they were alone with Ouberos they began to make their way back the lounge. I waited for the biggest to finish reporting into Prince Jorg before I showed myself.  Then in the moment it took him to draw a shouting breath I showed him my favourite knife. He hadn’t even fallen before I was closing on the next. Along the corridor, through an atrium with a fountain and gothic decoration. Down the black marble stairs at a barefoot run, then I gave a little whistle to make him turn his fat neck perfectly for me to open it as I went by and then I was onto the last Goon. He was at the lift to the upper VIP cabins already. The doors slid open as I closed on him and he entered, not a care in the world. To my left one of my micro camera drones came online and I could immediately tell this was going to be a candidate for kill of the week.

I made the drone pan wide on the lift as I ran full tilt towards the open doors.

The Goon turned and gave the cameras a priceless slack jaw close up when he saw me sprinting into the lift. I leapt into his arms, stabbing the knife into his chest again and again. The doors closed behind me and I cut the feed. What a wrap. That was award winning stuff.

On my way back to my cabin I checked Jorg’s Holog. Then I wiped off most of the blood and got into my Federal uniform. Afterwards I did a quick syndication review and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My numbers were really encouraging in the Pegasi sector but it was Jorg’s numbers that surprised me. They were huge. I mean he was Aisling’s cousin and a prince so they were normally massive but these were double his average. We hadn’t even met yet so I wasn’t sure how people had figured his life was in danger.

Or had I made a mistake and linked our feeds after I had put them on the Black Omega sub galnet. I checked.

Oh shit I had.

Which probably meant, well, which definitely meant, my feed had gone live across the entire Imperial network. I’d just murdered Prince Jorg’s entire Goon squad on a Hi Sec system’s live feed.

Oh shit.

shit. shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Five. Four.Three.Two.One.

I should probably tell Ouberos, but he would definitely be pissed. He might abort the whole gig. Then we would have to get away, likely have to lose the Beluga for something quicker. The Preacher wouldn’t be happy about that. Worst, no money for Marra either. She wouldn't be cool with that. This was bad. This was really bad.

Then again. We probably had a little while before anyone reported it, a couple of minutes at least. Then they would need a few more minutes to figure out what was going on and a few more to figure out where Jorg was and which star port we were in and which Beluga was ours. There were at least six in this port alone.  Fuck it we had loads of time.

I checked the lounge cameras and realised I was late. He had lost the game and was stalling. It was time for me to make an appearance in Prince Jorg’s Holog. I was so excited.

                                                                          *


Kara was late.

I had thrown the last hand and let Prince Jorg and his mates think they had won a Beluga. Its fair to say they weren’t gracious winners. I was telling them for the third time that I had a passenger onboard who needed to cross the bubble urgently when Kara finally showed up. She looked flustered and awkward to begin with but I think all the Princes saw was a beautiful young Federal officer. It was perfect misdirection.

At first they were shocked to see her, suspicious as to why the handlers hadn’t mentioned her but Kara quickly found her feet again and demanded to know why we hadn’t left yet. She started arguing with me, berating me for my Imperial inefficiencies and then wouldn’t accept the Prince's story of winning the Beluga in a card game. Finally when I admitted to the story she did an amazing job of crying real tears and demanding to know who would rescue her little virgin sister from the Pirates brothel if she couldn't deliver the ransom.

Now I’m not sure if it was the generations of inbred Imperial honour, Kara’s tears, or just the fact she was a vulnerable Federal girl in tight fitting military trousers, but within seconds those five Princes were jumping about, demanding we take off and set a course for this Pirates brothel and rescue that young virgin.

Looking back, I can’t believe they bought it. I mean, would you?
                       

We hadn’t made many jumps before I realised something was wrong. We dropped into a system I’d never visited and were suddenly Wanted. That first time I figured the mask had slipped on the pilots registration so I cycled it while the FSD cooled and rebooted it before the jump. We drop out and show as Wanted again and when every Imperial system is listing you as an enemy you know you are either a loyal Hudsonite or your grift has collapsed. I tried to reach Kara on the mic but got no answer. Her job was in the back keeping the Prince's contained. All she had to do was keep up the story until we were out of the Empire and if possible the Federation too.

I tried her again and this time she answered with the busy signal. The third time she answered properly but the signal was screwy.

“Bit busy,” she said

“Looks like our cover’s blown, what’s the problem? Have they called for help?” I asked. She grunted and then replied.

“We only have four Princes now. Sorry,” she said.

“Oh dear. That was careless. Which one?” I asked. Hopefully not one of the really rich ones. It wasn’t. Earl Hudson was just another bastard.

“I need to tell you something,” she said but then the first Interdiction caught us and I cut the signal. From then on the journey became a nightmare.

Everytime I dropped into a new system I would get a shitty comms message from some local yahoo bounty hunter and then maybe two or three more who had been able to follow my wake would join the party. Scooping became a game of cat and mouse as we dared each other through the corona’s and they tried to get the angle on me. Twice I saw them drop off my scanner because they got too close to the star. When they did catch me I found out why they named the ship after a whale. I swear I nearly popped my wrist trying to evade one interdiction.

When I had the fuel I would just submit and give the boosters a few stabs before Hi Waking away. When I was scooping though I had no choice but to wrestle that whale away from our pursuers and it seemed the further I pushed through the Empire the more pursuers we collected. Almost as if they knew where we were going to be before we got there.

Kara pinged me on the mic and I patched her in.

“Ouberos, sorry but we lost another Prince,” she said all apologetic as if these were cargo canisters full of Bauxite or something. Now normally I’m hyper respectful of Kara’s sensitive feelings but it’s fair to say at this point I was under a little more stress than normal.

“What the frack are you doing Kara? All you have to do is restrain them. You do understand the term nett worth don’t you? Each one of those Princes is the key to,” but she cut me off. Which was a bad sign. Another interdictor tried his luck and at exactly the same time I realised I needed to get back into the cabins. Right now, before Kara murdered the whole rodeo. There was only one thing for it.  

Submitting to interdiction flashed up on the canopy then, Flight Assist off.

The Clipper dropped in behind us just as I completed my emergency flip. I had no idea what that would have done to everyone in the back. No time to worry about it though. The Clipper lined up on us and opened fire, boosting towards us. At the same time I also hit the boost and then slid full power to SYS.

“Yaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr!”

At the last moment the pilot must have seen the danger and tried to pull up. We hit him just below the nose. His shields popped and then his hull. A Clipper is a big ship but that giant Beluga shredded him and flew right through the wreckage. I didn’t even take a breath but jammed the thrusters to max and scrambled out of the chair, disengaging my Remlok as I went. My personal weapon was hanging in my shoulder holster and I half pulled it then thought better of it and put it away. Rushing up to Kara with a drawn weapon wasn’t going to end well.

I burst into the state room to a scene of utter carnage. The first thing I focused on was the Imperial Prince hung by piano wire from the mostly smashed chandelier. Then I spotted the rest of the Piano and what appeared to be a pair of feet sticking out from under it. Finally I couldn’t take my eyes off Prince Timon who was being used as a human shield by Kara. She had one arm around his neck, cutting his air off and sending his face a dark shade of purple. In her other hand was a long knife which she was waving at Jorg and the other Prince. They had armed themselves with bits of wrecked furniture and a smashed bottle of fizz.

“Help me!” she shouted. “They aren’t planning to rescue my sister at all. They are going to give the ransom to the Pirates so they can deflower her and they just tried to rape me too!” she squealed and if I’m honest, for a second I was actually about to drop them with my thousand year old Walther PPK and it's priceless ammo. Then of course I realised Kara was still in character and had quite obviously got a little confused about what was real. It's not like it hasn't happened before and in her defence, on a philosophic level, whose to say what's real and what isn’t?

Something small and fast whizzed past my face. I caught a glimpse of a micro drone camera and suddenly a rather large penny dropped. Kara wasn’t confused. She was filming. She was running a grift on my grift. She was broadcasting our position. She was going to get us killed. If the Imperials didn't get us here, Black Omega would be after us for exposing them to all the heat. Add to that there would be an endless supply of bounty hunters looking for us from one end of the bubble to the other. We wouldn’t be safe at beagle frickin point.

I pulled my gun. No one does that to me. Well okay it has happened before but that guy is dead.

“Kara,” I shouted but then the lights went all red and an alarm sounded. An alarm you never want to hear when you have two and a half dead Princes on board.

“Capital class frameshift signature detected,”

And it was at that point I realised this caper had got completely out of hand.

“Finally,” shouted Prince Jorg, then he laughed like a maniac and pointed at the twitching Timon.

“Do you know who he is morons? Do you even know who his father is?” he shouted and I had to admit I didn’t. We had a thin file on most of them but Timon was a bit sketchy. Kara had said she thought he was from a navy family or something.

“He’s the son of the Emperor's fleet admiral you fucking peasant. His father has been following us on our entire journey, you don’t think they let the cousin of Princess Aisling and the son of the Emperor's Fleet admiral out unprotected do you? Timon’s entire body has got so many trackers in it he can’t go for a shit without that capital ship knowing what he had for dinner,”

In all fairness I had assumed they were out alone. Hands up, that was my mistake but like I said at the start, if I had a credit for every time I learned something in hindsight eh?

I guess we all learned something that day.

Prince Jorg learned that although it’s a small calibre weapon a Walther PPK can still blow your brains out. Even if it is a thousand years old. Hey, antiques are a hobby of mine. The other Prince, whose name escapes me, discovered that Kara can throw a large knife much quicker than he can duck and Timon’s father learned that we had kicked his precious son out of the airlock before Hi waking out of the Empire.


                                                                                                                                *

In the control room of Clair dock, Tjakiri, the traffic control had the scene from the dockside playing on the big screen. The Beluga had returned and would need a new paint job for sure and as they had all seen Kara’s Holog they figured it would need a new interior refit too.

The pilot, Ouberos, and the girl had been forced to kneel on the deck. Although they had no sound on the feed they could tell Marra was shouting. She had her Katana in her hand and was waving it about in front of the pair. Surrounding the drama were at least fifty Black Omega security, guns out and most certainly, safeties off. The traffic controllers were taking bets on what would come first, a decapitation from Marra or a firing squad. Decapitation, then a firing squad also had some money on it.

The gambling was interrupted by a ship dropping out of supercruise. A Cutter. Then another, followed by a Clipper and three gilded Conda’s. More ships arrived. The screens were sounding off contacts like a rising heartbeat.

“Its an invasion,” the chief controller gasped and scrambled for the alarm but a comms link came in first from a nervous sounding Imperial of high rank.

“Hi, err, is this where the Pirate brothel is? We can pay, we have credits. We have lots of credits,”



Marra is so mad. I haven’t ever seen her so mad. I really screwed it up. She’s definitely going to kill Ouberos with her sword and I think she might actually kill me too. I've still got my boot knife but I can't see it being much use against that Katana. Marra’s so cool, I wish I had a Katana. I bet Ouberos could get me a real one from the prehistoric times. Wait, whats going on with my Holog revenues? Is that, are those all zeros? I can connect to the feeds while she’s shouting at him.
Oh. Cool.


I've always considered myself a lucky man. That belief had been tested many times but weirdly, kneeling on the deck with that long sword being flashed around my face, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to die. I don’t know but for some reason I just knew there was a way out. Looking up at Marra’s flying dreads and the razor edge of her weapon wasn’t giving me many options but then neither were the firing squad but you know, when Kara pinged me on the bone mic I wasn't surprised. She filled me in on the situation outside. About two seconds later one of the firing squad put his finger to his ear as he got updated by the tower. He looked over at Marra and I swear he was considering not telling her. If i'm honest I wouldn’t want to have interrupted her either but as I was trying not to get executed I thought I better raise my hand and interrupt her monologue about what was going to happen to my flayed body before I was killed.

“What?” she looked at me incredulously.

“I think you have a message,” I said and pointed at the nervous messenger. Kara pinged me. She reckoned he was definitely going to get stabbed and I figured she might be right.

After that there wasn’t much to do but stand up and take advantage of the situation. I gave my suit a quick brush down, tugged at each of my shirt cuffs and straightened my tie. Then I smoothed down my hair and told a really big lie. A beluga of a lie. Misdirection and infiltration, often it's just a matter of timing.

“As I was trying to say, we figured if we made the greatest Holog of all time we could make enough money off the syndication to cover our dues for years, plus Kara realised there was a real opportunity to drive advertising for your, er club at the same time and the network we were broadcasting on only shows to the real high rollers so these kids are all golden tickets,”

Say one thing about Marra Morgan, say she knows a good business opportunity when it flies itself into the star port. She was still in a killing mood though so I figured we would be best to just say nothing more and walk casually away.

Another Beluga, stuffed with wealthy Imperials filled the sky above us.


Kara was silent all the way back to the Jolly Roger but as we were climbing the stairs she said,

“Can you get me a Katana? Katana’s look really cool,”

And I couldn't disagree.
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