[Story] A Thorn by Any Other Name
02 Jan 2021Daedalus Spyke
Cemiess - Mackenzie Relay:“Well! I’ve got ‘er hooked up! How’s she look?”
Spyke sighed and checked the readings panel for his new module. “...I hate it.”
“Huh? Somethin’ wrong with ‘er? I’m not seein’ any issues here on my end..” Elliot replied.
The Commander made no effort to hide the distaste in his voice. “No, it looks like it’s hooked up correctly and that’s exactly what I hate about it.”
Elliot held his tool kit back up in view of the cameras. “Well if you prefer I can always jus--”
“It’s fine.” Spyke cut in, “Just leave it in for now and I’ll throw it away later myself.”
Elliot shrugged and made his way off the ship. “Seems like a waste a credits but…” he said to nobody in particular as he rode the lift to the dock.
Back in the cockpit, Gladys placed a gentle hand on the Commander’s shoulder. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? I know what it means to you and.. It’s not too late to back out right now.”
Spyke glanced at the hand, let out a deep sigh and ran a gloved finger up and down the bridge of his nose. It took a moment for him to reply. “It’s fine. I told Milo’s contact that I’d do it and you know my rule about my jobs.”
“‘You always deliver’.” Gladys recited dryly. “BUT you also have another policy, as I recall: You don’t do piracy. That fool Milo can come up with a cover, put out a bounty and call it ‘liberating stolen goods’, and who knows, maybe they really are this time, but at the root of it this is really nothing more than sanctioned piracy.”
The words seemed to echo in his head as she spoke and his stomach turned over on itself. She had a point after all. Normally he’d never agree to such a job in the first place, a fact he knew his contract handlers were aware of, but this was for the good of the Legion’s ongoing election in Cemiess and Milo had him on a technicality. If either of those hadn’t been true he’d be much a happier man right now.
Gladys’ hand squeezed his shoulder and she leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of his head, intentionally landing it where his hair was starting to thin. She knew it bothered him and she hoped that it would annoy him enough for him to take his mind out of the gloom; his groan and irritatedly warm glare confirmed that she was right. Spyke huffed and bit playfully at her fingers for the short moment they were still in range before turning his attention back to the consoles.
“Buckle up; we’re going.”
Soon after, and in general silence, Spyke began the bootup and launch sequence to leave the station.
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Vequess - Deep Space:
LLV Big Game Shooter coursed through the great expanse, the rest of the system quickly falling away behind the Krait Mk II on its way to the last known location of her quarry. Hunting down targets had never been an issue before and this mark proved no different, but it felt different this time and Spyke couldn’t shake a bad feeling that had been rising since landing in the system. The computer alerted him that he was now within range for his interdictor and the Diamondback Explorer sat firmly in his crosshairs. Spyke engaged the comms.
“Michael J Taylor, this is Commander Daedalus Spyke. You are wanted in this sector and under authority of Lavigny’s Legion who control this airspace, you are to submit to interdiction and relinquish your stolen goods immediately.”
There was no reply from the other ship and, predictably, Michael did not submit to the interdiction so it was a fair assumption that he likely wouldn’t give up the cargo willingly either. Spyke let out another heavy sigh. It seemed that he would, in fact, have to use his new hatchbreaker limpet controller after all.
Once both ships were forcefully ejected back into normal space again it was like an old routine Spyke was all too familiar with; only this time he was the pirate trying to get at the other’s cargo. Hopefully this time would end with the pirate getting the haul he was looking for instead of leaving either empty handed or in an escape pod. Spyke deployed his hardpoints when two Sidewinders escorting the target burst into view and were quickly dispatched without effort or second thought. And then something strange happened.
The Krait’s shields went down.
“That’s what I get for underestimating a DBX, I guess..” Spyke thought to himself, but all he vocalized was “Huh..” with a very matter-of-fact intonation. He wasn’t too concerned; he frequently hunted much larger ships in this vessel and not even a moment later the target’s shields were down as well with the hunter now targeting their quarry’s drives.
Hull down to 70%.
The DBX kept weaving and keeping its nose toward the Krait. An obviously good call when your goal is to continue fighting, but also one that made shooting the main drives out much harder for either party. Spyke let out a twinned burst from his two Imperial Hammer railguns, hoping that the super penetrator rounds he used would rip through the smaller craft and take out the engines the long way through but his scanner showed there would be no such luck here and that the six rounds had only significantly reduced the target’s hull integrity instead. Cursing, he decided to switch tactics and just try deploying the limpets while both ships were mobile.
Hull down to 50%. Shields online.
“Wait, 50% already? But I’ve got a hull reinforcement packa-- Ohh. No I don’t. I replaced that with the limpet controller.. Fuck.” The frustration was visible on Spyke’s face but at least his shields were back online. This time he put full power into his SYS manager with a secondary focus on his engines; he wasn’t going to need his weapons anymore in this fight if he was lucky.
Programming limpet drone. Hatchbreaker limpet engaged.
The small drone flew surprisingly true, attaching to the bottom of the Diamondback as it arched through a maneuver to turn itself back towards Spyke’s ship. Admittedly, he was mildly surprised by this since he’d never seen this interaction from this end of things before. Seven short seconds later the drone’s control module announced that it had successfully overridden the enemy’s cargo hatch and canisters full of stolen goods and spare parts were soon spilling all over space.
Spyke throttled down and prepared to deploy a pair of collector limpets when suddenly an alert flashed that his shields were down again and that he was losing chunks of armor off his hull at an alarming rate. He had made the mistake of underestimating his foe twice in one fight and now it was threatening to cost him.
Hull at 25%. Canopy integrity at 50%.
Spyke shot a quick glance back to Gladys in his copilot seat, who nodded to confirm their wordless exchange. System power was hastily fully transferred back into the Krait’s engines and it sped away from the battle, the engineered thrusters easily outrunning the small Diamondback.
The ship continued in a straight line as fast as possible so that its shields could recharge in peace; the HUD showing that armor integrity was at roughly 15% remaining. Both pilots let out a sigh of relief.
“That was a close one, Commander…”
Spyke nodded. “You okay?”
“I should be asking that of you.” Gladys replied with a sympathetic smirk.
“....We’re alive, at least. And that’s better than most pirates I’ve met in encounters like this.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
Spyke couldn’t agree more and already had the jump plotted back to his carrier, LLV Negotiator where he could repair, rearm, and relax.
“I think I’m gonna punch Milo for this one.” Spyke said as he engaged the frameshift drive.
Neither of them knew if that was a joke or not.
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Nu - LLV Negotiator:
Back home, Spyke quickly disembarked, filled a repair sheet with Micah and instructed his outfitting manager, Gordon, to remove ‘that damned module’ and throw it into the star. He was fairly sure that Gordon would actually sell the lightly-used item back onto the market instead of wasting a perfectly good chance at profit, but he couldn’t care less right now. Right now all he needed was a cold stout, a punching bag, a bed, or possibly some mixture of the three somehow. He couldn’t figure out which sounded more appealing so he decided to just go into his quarters and figure it out from there.
The bed won.
Not two minutes had passed after he laid down than a knock came from the door; he had a pretty good idea of who it was and that it was probably best to accept this and let it happen. “Enter.”
On queue, Gladys opened the door and made her way across the room. “Spyke? How are you feeling, sweety?” He wasn’t sure how, but it seemed that she had already managed to change into her preferred comfort clothes of a t-shirt and overalls that made her look so out of place on any ship.
“Tired. I want to sleep for a full orbit right now.” Gladys sat next to him as he replied and began tracing her fingers through his hair and sending relaxing tingles down his spine.
“You wanna talk about it? I have my own thoughts on things, but I want to hear yours first.”
“Of course you do…”
He didn’t really mind having to share first, but he was the type who needed a little more time for concentrated thinking on a matter before he knew how he felt about something, and could easily go on indefinitely without knowing his own opinion on some matters at all until they caused him trouble. This was something that Gladys had been patiently working with him to change and it had really helped more than he’d ever expected in surprising ways so far. But it could be hard, and this was feeling like one of those times.
“I think… I feel... relieved? A bit happy even. … Does that make sense?”
His partner nodded though he couldn’t see it for being face-down in a pillow. “Why is that?” she gently prodded but it would be a good minute or five before he answered; partly because he was getting caught up in the head-scratches she was still giving him.
“I guess it’s something like: I can more confidently say that I won’t accept those kinds of jobs, or that piracy doesn’t pay? Maybe?”
“You mean like, ‘I tried it and I didn’t like it so now I never have to do it again’?”
“Yeah. Like that. … Kinda like when you had me try that thing you cook--ACK!!”
His jab at her station’s ‘delicacy’ was cut short by her swift switch from head-scratches to a headlock.
The two pilots laughed as they wrestled each other, eventually calming down and falling asleep in a warm, cozy cuddle.