Jotunheim: Inception
19 Aug 2015Shadowmatty
“Daring ideas are like chessmen moved forward; they may be beaten, but they may start a winning game.” - Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe The vibrant glow of the holo-display dimly illuminated the cold metal walls of the 'Cutty Sark's' cargo hold. Large empty containers were stacked like rows of buildings; like forbearing monoliths stretching into the darkness. Commander Sigsy stood opposite me, staring into the display. His features were indiscernible in the pale amber radiance, but I imagined he had a look of consternation as his eyes darted across the galaxy map laid out before us.
“Our numbers have grown exponentially.” he said, his voice echoing off the containers.
“We're not exactly a small group of privateers anymore, huh?” I replied.
“I think it's about time we made a name for ourselves – we could disrupt a system and claim it in the name of the Empire – prove that we have what it takes – hell, we could make our own faction.” said Sigsy with a burst of enthusiasm, then he more reservedly added “But where to start?“
I leaned closer to the hologram, scanning the colourful stars; looking for a target.
“What about here?” I pointed to an Independent system near 'LTT 9810' “It seems the Caspatsuria Empire Assembly recently tried to invade and were repelled.” I added.
“Aye, we could disrupt the resistance there and see if we can spark things off again.” he said with a wry smile barely visible in the dull reflected glimmer. “We'll start a war in Jotunheim.”
“I'll let the others know.” I said and happily, hurried to the airlock.
…
I found Commander Driftwood at the data-bank. He was fastidiously connecting wires and strange little gadgets to a glossy black terminal, his gaze did not shift as I approached.
“Hi Matty.” he said, thrusting his head under the desk to retrieve another gizmo.
Driftwood was still relatively new to the corporation, Sigsy had gone adrift one day and called the Fuel Rats to rescue him, it was Driftwood who came to his aid. He joined our ranks soon after that chance meeting and was already in the habit of proving his worth.
“We're looking at taking over this system.” I said, handing him my comm-pad which displayed the coordinates and the bare-bones of our plan. “What do you think?” I asked.
He looked at it for a moment, then typed the details into the terminal. The Jotunheim system appeared on the screen, all of it's planetary elements were before our eyes. He zoomed in on the largest station and we shared a moment of amusement; Big Harry's monkey hangout was the target.
“Count me in,” he said, “But give me some time to gather data so we can do it properly.”
I nodded and then I watched with fascination as streams of code appeared on screen, it was beyond my comprehension so I left Driftwood to his research and headed for the Commanders Lounge.
…
The Lounge was busy and full of chatter, Commander Walton was sat at the bar nursing a glass of single-malt, He had his back to the door, but from the way he sat I could see he was deep in thought. He occasionally placed his fore-finger and thumb to his temples, hunched over the smooth mahogany surface and glared into his drink. I decided to leave him alone with his considerations.
Big T, Little T and Munky occupied one of the brightly lit booths, they were relaxing on the soft suede, burgundy couches. Commander Sedgefly stood by their table, smiling and animated; he was regaling his audience with tales of a multitude of explorations. I wandered closer until he was audible above the hum of overlapping conversations. Sedge was describing his expedition to the Pleiades Nebula and how desperately under-equipped, he persevered to search for a black-hole in the Maia system. The reminiscence was full of good humour and the kind of joyous nostalgia normally reserved for childhood memories. The fondness that he infused into his stories was captivating, I felt that any interruption on my part would be unwelcome and a great disservice to the tale. I looked around some more.
In the middle of the room, Commanders Mal Reynolds and Forplay were sat on stools, playing cards on an barrel. Forplay was trying to teach Mal an old game from where he grew up - a game from the federal territories - and I wasn't sure if Mal was truly perplexed or just pretending he didn't understand the rules; he kept laughing and politely requesting that Forplay explain it all again. Undeterred, Forplay shuffled the cards and began the lecture anew. I felt I would interject and spare him the trouble, I walked over, pulled up another stool and promptly took residence.
“Gentlemen.” I said, in an announcers voice; hoping to grab their attention.
“Hey, what's up Matty?” said Forplay in his usual upbeat manner.
“Hey” said Mal, still gripped by the mirth of his playful ruse.
“I'm going to post an official request later, but if you'll hear me out? I'll explain it now.” I teased.
“Fire away buddy, you know I'm down.” said Forplay, before he chugged some more beer.
“I have to say I'm intrigued.” added Mal.
They leaned forward, curious and attentive as I began to describe the measure of our plot...