Remembrance 1: Pirates and Other Outlaws - A
14 Nov 2024Astraeius
Elus Dionis – 21st of September, the Year 3307
“This is just a peaceful passenger ship. We ain’t got anything of value. Is this necessary?” Janus asked, the federal twang in his voice more pronounced with every sentence he uttered.
The first few times I had heard him speak, outside of the comforts of his office at the villa, I had thought he was putting on a show. We had hopped between space-ports, in what I could only assume had been an effort to lose a trail – whether real or imaginary, we had been lucky enough to not be able to tell – and most stations Janus had felt safe enough to dock us at had been either neutral or Alliance ports. Hiding an imperial accent would not have been foolish.
If it was a ruse, it was one that worked: wherever we docked, what reservations people who saw us exit a Courier fresh from slave-operated shipyards evaporated as soon as he began talking. Frowns turned into smiles, people offered us a seat at their table, and we did our best not to shatter the illusion. My father, too, tried to mix some “federalism” into his speech – as he himself had put it – which was typically greeted with some chuckling, probably because of how thick and parodic his affected accent sounded. My mother, though perhaps at first more timid, soon grew curious about matters of starport engineering, and her curiosity was better received by the locals than any change in tone and speech could ever hope to be.
But, whereas my father’s false accent evaporated the moment we stepped back into the relative safety of our ship – the safety, but soon no longer the comfort, as both the Lord Sallus and his former secretary though it wise to trade in the luxury courier for a less conspicuous craft – Janus’s federal twang, though perhaps less strong, was far more tenacious, and showed no desire to abandon him.
More and more, I realised how little I knew of the man. He had been my father’s secretary, and like many of our household slaved he had been a free man before selling himself to settle a debt, but I could remember nothing of his purchase, nor indeed exactly how long he had been with us. One day, one of my father’s libraries had been converted into a second study, and there Janus had materialised, as if though he had been moved in with the chairs and the desk. An invaluable secretary and assistant, to a man that did not have any real job to speak of.
It had been around the time my father’s interest in archaeology had turned away from the ruins of Old Earth, and seeing the ease with which Janus had gathered news from the many bartenders and storekeeper that crossed our paths, I thought perhaps he had been some form of field-researcher. He certainly would not have been the first student skilled enough to enter one of Achenar’s universities, but too poor to pay for a life in the Imperial capital.
“Come now, I see you over there, don’t do anything stupid now…” Janus called out on his comms, to the ship that had begun to trail us. To no avail. “Shit, hold on tight, kid! Passengers, strap in!” Janus’s voice betrayed nothing of his old deference as the ship jerked wildly, and the calm and silence of supercruise travel turned into utter chaos.
I would soon learn the word “Interdiction”, and learn it well, but at that time I knew only that something was happening that should not have happened. And that I was right to feel as scared as I did. Janus struggled with his throttled for a while, but to no great avail, and then suddenly the jerking stopped, and we dropped into space.
Immediately, the engines behind us launched the ship forwards, but not before our assailant’s first salvo caught us. There had been no warning. It caught the ship’s shielding, but still I was terrified. Terrified for myself, and for my mother and father, who I hoped remained safe in their cabin. For a moment I resented my choice to sit besides Janus, rather than being with them, but I soon realised that, at least, I would know where death came from. The grim thought brought me no comfort.
If I had ever though myself fearless, or even brave, that moment freed me of the foolish notion. It was all I could do not to cry out in fear. And perhaps that was fear, too, keeping me paralysed rather than letting me speak, and weep, as I would have. Weep at the why of it all, cry out against fate, or the gods, or whatever had brought me to so sad a doom.
But not Janus. He too was silent, not frozen in fear, and yet cold and distant, as never I had seen him. The rush of enemy fire left him utterly unphased, or at least so it seemed to my eyes. He cared not to trade blows with our pursuer, and instead He cared not to trade blows with our pursuer, and instead moved us away from the other ship, staring at one of his screens with far too lax an attitude, in the opinion of one whose life depended on his quickness.
Nor was our ship that fast, despite Janus pushing it to its limits. The pirate, or assassin, that pursued us was closing the gap, not fast but surely, and there seemed to be naught we could do against it. For a short moment we had been out of his range, or perhaps he was distracted by some matter more pressing than the defenceless passenger ship in front of him, but soon his cannons were once more burning against our shields, and he drew ever closer, as if were trying to ram us like a battleship of old.
Almost, he was on our tail, and it was there that Janus wanted him to be, for he smiled and, with the flick of a switch and a pull on the stick, we were free of our pursuer. Or rather, he sped fast beside us, as Janus turned our ship around blew every last watt of energy it had into its thrusters. Soon the stars sped past us, and we were greeted by a warm yellow sun, in the safety of another system.
“Neat trick, right kid? Most pilots will think you want to outrun them, but they forget how free you are to move in space! Hey kid, everything all right?”
No, definitely not a researcher’s assistant, I thought to myself, before the whole world turned black, and I fainted.