Chapter 3. Running to Stay Alive
05 Aug 2020Black Llama
August 4, 3306Flettner Survey outpost, Aitvas system
"There you are... Imperial scum."
I had ignored for a moment the comms system popup, thinking it was yet another cruise ship captain bragging about their vessel. Then the next message came in.
"Submit to Federal arrest, or die."
Then, boom. The Spitfire, my brand new Imperial Courier, jolted sideways like a startled animal as the interdiction began.
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I arrived at Hiyya Orbital in the Arjung system one day ahead of the date specified by Maggie, only to find that she had anticipated this. As I walked out of the pilot's lounge onto the station's main concourse, an old man in drab overalls emblazoned with some sort of heraldics -an Imperial slave, no doubt- approached me, placed a memory card on my hand, then walked away without saying a word.
I wasn't going to take chances - suspecting malware, I bought a generic mobile in one of the shops, then checked in one of Hiyya Orbital's hotels. When up in my room I booted up the mobile, disabled its network connector, then inserted the card. It contained an executable, an encrypted video message, and an empty file named "DRINKME". I locked myself in the bathroom, placed a portable microphone jammer next to the basin, then played the video. It asked for a password, but the file was the hint I needed.
"Wonderland", I said aloud. The screen filled with Maggie's face. She looked worried, sitting in the cockpit of an Imperial Courier, probably one of those I saw leaving Vaucanson Hub on the day we met again. "Hey there, F. I'm sorry I lied to you, but I won't be meeting you there. As I said before, time is of the essence and I need to track down another lead." My heart sank to my feet. "Besides, there's the crowd I'm running with, which is a little particular about non Imperials." YOU are not an Imperial either, Maggie, I thought. What was going on?
The message went on. "It so happens that my friends have associates in the Mainani Empire Party and they are very keen on increasing that faction's influence. If you fly to Mainani and contact their representative there, you'll be able to contract a few missions and increase in Empire rank, enough so that the controlling faction will agree to let you look at their personnel files. Then please do this for me - find out all you can about my father's presence there."
"The attached file contains a manifest generator prepared by my friends, it will create a fake Imperial ID and registration papers for one of your ships. Try not to fly something too much Fed - they're a bit sensible about those things down there. Once you find the data, meet me at the address that the generator will print in the registration to collect your payment. Good luck, this should be easy for you."
The next day I went to Hiyya Orbital's shipyards and purchased an Imperial Courier myself. A couple of side trips to tweak it a bit, then ran the generator which created datafiles identifying the ship as a general purpose scout/trader sailing out of Bell Terminal.
In Achenar. The Empire's capital system.
Oh well, let's get on with this, I said to myself.
Plenty of courier missions were available between the Mainani and Ngalinn systems, it didn't take me long to get a good amount of reputation with all the factions (greasing a few palms with some generous donations here and there also helped). Everything was running smoothly until the interdiction.
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I fought with the controls, trying to steady the ship. "Verity, find me an escape vector pronto" I shouted to the COVAS. I wasn't worried at first, as I had escaped many interdictions, even when flying a Type-9. But this time, although I was keeping the Spitfire's nose mostly aligned with the escape vector, the red capture indicator didn't go down. With a loud boom, I was dropped into normal space. "Hull integrity compromised" Verity's emotionless voice sounded in the cockpit as the ship tumbled.
A quick check at the sensors showed a Mamba, closing in fast. I throttled up, then turned to the comms interface. "There must be a mistake here, officer. I'm an independent contractor."
"The arm of the Federal Navy is not so easily avoided" came the reply.
What was a Federal enforcer doing that deep into Imperial space? Had I been set up? I worried. Perhaps those fake papers were a trap and I had painted a big bullseye on my back. I watched my speed increase and the distance open up. Christ, I have no idea how fast a Mamba can be, I thought. Hope it's not fast enough. With three lightweight pulse lasers I was no match for a dedicated bounty hunter.
The next message came in, filled with contempt. "You'll only die tired, Imperial gutter trash."
In that moment I was glad for all those years training in engineering with Dad, plus all the talks with Farseer, Martuuk and others. Prior to flying to Mainani I had engineered the Spitfire for high speeds - it was time to put it to the test. "Ok, Papá," I said aloud. "Time to make you proud. Please don't blow up..." I redirected power to the engines, and punched the engine boost.
For a moment I thought my chest would be crushed, as the enhanced thrusters fired up. In an instant, speed jumped from 440 meters per second to over 700. As the distance with my pursuer increased, I turned to the comms again. "You're mistaking me for someone else."
"Am I now? Do elaborate" was the dry response.
I was going to reply that I was a serious businessman based in Federation space - but a sudden instinct made me change my answer. "Yes."
"I'm waiting for your explanation."
I smiled as I punched in jump coordinates to some nearby system. "You think I'm someone you can actually catch", I said, then engaged the FSD.
Two more random jumps to throw him off my trail, then on to find somewhere to lay low for a while. That bastard cost me a nice sum in delivery bonus payments, but wow. Seven freaking hundred meters per second. Papá would certainly be proud.