The Hodkin Chronicles Part 10: 7 Days to Strengthen the Weak
08 Jan 2017S. Hodkin
21st June 3301 - Cleve Hub, Eravate, Log Recorded 23:40 GSTSeven days can change a lot, and the previous week has been no exception. No sooner had I met Jem than arranged for another drink or two at the Black Hole, the bar on Cleve owned by my cousin Mark, eldest of my maternal aunt’s large family, and proud as anything of his business, and as with all my family in the drinking establishment trade, has his own individually brewed beverage. In his case, as a homage to the Solar Irish heritage of my mother’s side, a dark stout that tends to be popular with the Celtic diaspora around nearby systems. That said, the Black Hole also has its popularity in musical evenings, having even played there with an ad hoc band I was part of in my pre-Navy student days.
After burning the midnight fuel in working on a surprise for Jem, I rang up with enthusiasm to meet her at the Black Hole. I’ll give her credit for two things; her punctuality and fashion sense, silver suited her well. As soon as we were in place with drinks, and having introduced Jem to Mark, who seemed quite enamoured with her himself. Not uncommon of him mind you, family man or otherwise, all part of his charm. Anyway, I gave her the surprise I’d spent a good part of the small hours working on - a holocube with Bekka’s image in great clarity, to ensure she was always with her as I put it. The tearful embrace was more than thanks enough for me, this friendship was going to be quite something.
In the following days contact was a little more frequent, first through my pride at a Novice combat rank with the Pilots’ Federation, after much confidence built in bounty hunting in and around Eravate, shaking off my fear of lasers in the process. Not long after came the moment that Jem had been working towards for what must have been months, the much sought-after permit to Sol, the cradle of humanity itself that I too was finding a reason to go to.
As soon as we were at the Black Hole, we were in our now regular seating area, complete with a bottle of Solar Chardonnay, champagne was out of the question owing to its extortionate export prices, not least the base price running into tens of thousands of credits. It was agreed that we would venture towards Sol together, not only for the company, but also for the strength of armaments between our two craft, both in my new Cobra Mark III and her Adder. Who knows what the next few jumps could bring, but we also agreed that we would take our time towards our destination, no point in rushing after all!
While we began talking about the potential itinerary, as well as Jem’s plans for dispatching Caz, and then realised the date and went suddenly silent and in deep thought. And then when asked what was wrong, for the first time I confided in someone outside of my immediate family the events of a year previous to that evening - The loss of two of my comrades close to me, the captivity, the coma, stopping short of mentioning the arm loss but factoring in the ocular impacts. I must have rallied off almost everything within a quarter of an hour at breakneck speed, and when I had finished, the emotional release finally happened.
Before I knew it, I broke down into bitter weeping, collapsing into Jem’s arms and crying full on, having no care for what anybody else thought or said at that moment, all the emotions and aching of a year had finally been made manifest. No amount of counselling could allow for such a release, and it went to show how much I trusted the woman I was crying into the shoulder of, something more was possible on the horizon, and not just a blue moon from time to time..