Imperial eagle or raven?
06 Feb 2021Akiya
Akiya private journal, 3307-01-03Sophie punches out of witch-space, and I cut the throttle in front of the sun. System scan in progress. I'm dressed in my prefered flight suit, bright golden with the Imperial eagle on the shoulder. I've got my hair in my favourite bright pink colour, and my tattoos visible. If I must risk my life, let's at least do it with style, however tasteless my style might be. I won't care what anyone thinks when I'm dead.
But under that flashy style, I'll be as dark as Sophie's hull. And as hard, inshallah.
--
"I don't like that. I'm not an assassin. What about your Imperial honour?" I am standing in the office of Prince David suite in the East India Company quarters. Reading a mission order from the Imperial navy. And one curiously detached side of my mind worrying how out of place my lower-class accent sounds in such a place.
"War is rarely honourable. But yes, it is a problem of honour sometimes. Which is why they'd rather delegate that task to an outsider." He pauses. "Have you ever been in a war, commander Akiya?"
Here it is again. My formal title, subtle reminder that we're not really in private and I must observe the formalities. With Andrew standing guard on the side of the room, ready to cough if I slip and call him David. Like I already did once, because I'm still bad at reading a room. I shake my head.
"Neither did I, at least not directly. But I have seen enough to know that war is not a sport. You do not give the opponent a level playing field. You guess where they will only have second-line ships crewed by rookies, and that is where you stack your veterans in their best ships, ideally with overwhelming numbers. You owe it to the people you command. And this pirate, they are not playing a sport. They are fighting a war against us. A small, undeclared one, but a war it is. And we can not show mercy. The Navy is full of people who live by that kind of logic. If you want to be recognized by them you need to become harder."
I sigh.
"Commander, if you succeed in this mission, I will have cause to recommand you to be an official servant of the Imperial navy reserves. I know a serf position does not sound like much, or might even sound offensive to you, but you will be a serf of the Imperial navy! And they do not like people stealing what is theirs. That is going to give pause much more easily to people who would want to enslave you than being just an outsider to whom the navy subcontracts things sometimes."
Why is he talking about slavery, out of the blue like that? I swear this man knows much more about me than he says out loud.
--
Sophie strains against the interdiction. I cut the throttle. "We're here to fight anyway, let's see who is that and what they want."
Communications come alive. "This is an interception, cut your speed and submit to our scan! Do not deploy your hardpoints!"
But I have already spooled up my impulse engines, and am manoeuvring to bring the only ship appearing on my radar into my scanner's vision cone. The pirate is flying a viper. I don't deploy my hardpoints, trying to extend the time between my non-compliance and them deciding to open fire. My scanner comes online while I select antoher system in my navigation panel, readying an escape jump.
Just a little more... Now. Wanted. Mission Target. No escape then. Sorry guy, but you interdicted the wrong one. They are still in front of me. I deploy the hardpoints while pushing the engine. Sophie cuts the power to non-combat equipment, as programmed for. I transfer all power to the lasers, and I'm now at close range before they realise they're in a fight. Right, this is not a sport. This is war. If they have a chance, you messed up somewhere.
Sophie's lasers light the viper's shield. The pirate boosts away, but the shield is already gone, like they never bothered to upgrade the stock generator.
--
"Still, firing on an escape pod..."
"They do not say you should, just that they would prefer him dead. The human mind is a strange thing, you know?" He interrupts me again. "It often cares more about our acts than the consequences. Let us say you target a ship powerplant, to prevent her from escaping, or recharging her shields. She explodes and kills the crew. Same results than if you had disabled their thrusters, then hunted down the escape pods? Yet, we would regard one as honourable, and not the other."
No need to lecture me. I'll hold my nose, and do it. Who am I kidding, anyway? When your multi-cannons propel a volley of high velocity steel in the direction of someone, you're past caring for their life! "Understood, your Highness. I'll execute that mission." I salute and turn away. I hope I did not sound too harsh.
"Commander," David calls me back in a softer voice, "lady my mother found me a contact within the Trans-Galactic Slave Corporation lower ranks, on Seega Dock. High enough that they would have no problem helping with your business project, and low enough that they will know what you are talking about I think. Contact me when you return there, so that I can introduce you. With that and the recognition of the Imperial navy, you might find some doors open more easily than you thought."
"Understood, you Highness." I hesitate. "And thanks."
--
I transfer the power to my engines, and manoeuver closer to the pirate's Viper. The pilot tries to face me, and I see my shield glow from a laser beam, but my engines are now at their full potential. I thrust down to stay out of their line of fire, then re-engage the flight assistance to follow their trajectory. I press the trigger for the multi-cannons. Sophie vibrates while the viper is riddled with shells. Another manoeuver to stay out of the line of fire while the weapons recharge, and I can fire again. Crippled, the pirate makes the error to try to flee, offering me an easy, low-deflection, straight line target, while my engine power means they cannot increase the distance.
A luminous flower of death blooms where I was aiming. I cut my speed.
I then mindlessly follow the checklist. Stow hardpoints. Damage control - easy, not even strained Sophie's shields. Open cargo hold. Launch a limpet to retrieve the debris. Open secure comms channel.
"Mission accomplished."
After debriefing, I'll buy some Achenar whisky tonight, for the commander's stateroom closet. The East India Company store must have a bottle hidden somewhere. I still find it scary how easy this can go, and how easy I could be on the other side, one day. But tomorrow, I'll make plans to return to Seega Dock. If I have to harden, it shall not be in vain.
OOC: Thanks for reading to the end! Yay, another gameplay-inspired entry, I'm getting better at linking what happens in game with what happens in my head!
As always, please don't hesitate to reach out with comments or to point my English or lore mistakes. I know English is not my native language, so I won't get mad. And I'm always eager for suggestions to augment my roleplay or give me new in-game objectives.
As always too, if your commander wants to meet Akiya in-game, don't hesitate to send her a friend/wing/group request! She should be flying on week-end nights, holiday nights and rainy days, and even occasionally on week nights, GMT+1, real-life permitting. You can contact her in Standard Galactic English or old pre-spacefaring French. (be warned, I do not sound like her at all on voice comms - overcharge your suspension of disbelief before you open a channel)