Personal Log 115: 4th - 10th April, 3302
16 Oct 2016Jemine Caesar
4th - 10th April, 3302 On April 5th, lying in my medicentre bed, I updated my status on the Pilot's Federation chat page:
"Recovering at Dalton Gateway medicentre after almost being dumped into the sun while locked in a slave pod, having already been deprived of any sleep for over eighty hours straight. The torture I suffered while held hostage without food during the previous two weeks includes four broken ribs, a damaged spleen and kidney, cuts and bruises all over my body, and my hair hacked off with a knife. I just want to let my friends know that I'm all right. The past couple of weeks is a blur, but at least it's the end of a nightmare which has gone on for over three months."
Soon, messages of support appeared from acquaintances old and new; Karvin Delront, Absalom Taak, Hunter Casucci, and Kyle Senreiko. And a beautiful bouquet of purple orchids arrived from Argent Steel, through Galflora. I noticed there was nothing from Nathalie Hudson, which I thought was very odd, and I prayed to Gaia that she was all right.
On April 7th the medics were satisfied enough with my condition to approve my discharge. Physically I was well, but the events of the previous two weeks weighed heavily on my mind.
Gayle Graham was right. I was a nobody. I was sorry she had been killed before completing her revenge. I should have died.
Sam collected me from the medicentre, and took me to the room he had booked for us. Sam was so sweet, holding my hand and chatting about heading out among the stars again. He had arranged for a replacement ship to be waiting for me in the docking bay. For my part, I stayed silent. I didn't deserve his love. He should be with a girl more worthy than I.
I waited until Sam fell asleep, and slipped from his arms. I gathered up some things and stuffed them into a bag. Then, after one last look at the sleeping form of the man I had loved, I left him. He'd be better off without me.
I went down to the docking bay and located my new ship, once again designated The Last Thing I Do. I squeezed myself into a brand new flightsuit and sat in the cockpit for a while, gazing at the controls without really seeing them. My mind was in a daze. I needed to do something. I had to get away from here.
Acting almost without thinking, I began trading and running courier missions, accepting anything on the board regardless of where it led to. Before long I had flown though Frigaha, V1688 Aquilae, Eravate and Obambivas. My hands operated the controls, but my mind was curiously detached. I was floating.
At Obambivas I received a k-cast from Aidan Venters. Aidan told me he was a long way outside the bubble.
"I've got my name on two rocks in Horsehead Dark Region WO-R," he said, proudly. We also chatted about a recent story in Galnet concerning ex-president Jasmina Halsey, and her ravings of a 'galactic caretaker'. The poor woman was clearly mad.
I ploughed on through space, somehow managing to beat off an interdiction by a Viper IV. I put the bounty towards a new planetary vehicle hangar and SRV, although I doubted I would use it very much.
At LTT15574, after making a planetfall landing at Marconi Survey, I decided to stop. I hadn't travelled very far from LHS 3447, but tomorrow I would keep going. Curled up on the deck of The Last Thing, I felt like the most wretched woman in the galaxy.
*****
I spent the whole of the next day trading. I didn't care what, or where to. Those were decisions I was content to leave to the starport bulletin boards. The less thinking I did for myself, the better.
My mindless wandering took me to V1688 Aquilae, Zeta Aquilae, Liu Baja, Ross 733, 110 Herculis, Neto, Wat Yu, and finally 775 Herculis. I carried cargoes of meat, medical samples, gold, coltan, tantalum, aluminium, consumer technology, and explosives.
I was interdicted three times; the first time by a Cobra IV, and the second by a Vulture. I won the first battle fairly easily, redeeming a bounty of over 23,000CR. I didn't fare so well with the Vulture, however, however. My attacker's rapid onslaught reduced my hull to 21%, so I gave up the fight and ran for it. The third attack came from a Sidewinder. My lasers cut through her shields and brought her hull down to a mere 7%. With victory in my reach, the Sidewinder's pilot decided enough was enough and engaged her FSD to escape.
When my comms flashed an incoming k-cast I was afraid to answer in case it was Sam. Separations like this weren't uncommon for the two of us, since Sam's bounty hunting trips and my trade runs often took us in different directions. This particular separation, though, was different, and I dreaded the inevitable conversation when I would have to tell Sam that I had left him for good.
The k-cast turned out to be Aidan Venters. He asked me how I was. I told him I was keeping myself busy with courier jobs, going wherever the trade winds blew me. This was a phrase my papa used to say during our travels back home. I never really understood what it meant.
"It's a reference," Aidan explained, "to the ancient days of sailing ships on Earth, when trading was done by sea."
At V775 Herculis I docked at Beatty Port, a quiet civilian outpost, and booked into a room. It had been a long and tiring day. I took off my flightsuit, strapped myself into the zero-g bed, and drifted off to sleep.
I woke with a start some time later, sobbing my heart out. I had been dreaming about Sam...
Oh, for the love of Gaia! How could I have been so stupid?
I returned to The Last Thing, powered up for the return journey to Beta Hydri. And, hopefully, back into the arms of the man I loved.
*****
It was sixteen jumps to Beta Hydri. Passing through LHS 3505 I discovered an escape pod. After scooping it up I then found another six not far away.
These, though, had attracted the interest of an Anaconda, the pilot of which showed up on my scanner as 'lawless'. Even more worrying was the snatch of comms chatter I picked up; "Affirmative, six pods, but no sign of the pilot!" Suspecting that I had the missing pilot in my hold, and knowing I'd be no match for an Anaconda, I opted for a tactical withdrawal.
I realised I'd need a black market to offload the escape pod and ensure the safety of its occupant. The Navcom said there was one at Wolf 906, so I set course.
At Herbert Dock I nervously contacted a black marketeer called Dale Arthur, who grudgingly paid me 3000CR for the pod. I didn't find out if it contained the missing pilot. I didn't dare ask.
Shortly after arriving in Beta Hydri I passed a wedding barge, and sent my best wishes to the happy couple. A little farther on I detected a distress signal, being broadcast by an Asp which had run out of fuel.
"Don't worry," I told the pilot. "I'll call ahead for help. Take care."
Once docked at Stevenson Base, I sold my accumulation of astrocartographical data for 14,000CR. Then I went to Minnie's Milkshakes for a fortifying cup of strong coffee. Then I wandered the shopping malls. Then, finally, I plucked up the courage to go to see if Sam still wanted me.
"Hello, Jem," he said, as I walked in to the apartment. "Welcome home."
*****
I didn't actually tell Sam that I had left him. It didn't seem necessary now that we were back together again. But, try as I might, I just couldn't catch the spark of love that had existed between us before. My thoughts kept straying back to my treatment at the hands of Gayle Graham.
Deep down I knew that I was having some sort of mental reaction in the aftermath of my ordeal. It didn't help that I had become touchy and irritable with Sam. I even argued with him when he criticised Gayle for what she had done to me and the other girls. Indeed, I actually defended her motives.
Sam, to his great credit, remained gentle with me at all times. I kept wishing he would just hit me. Instead he carried on as if everything was normal, filling my silences with idle chit chat. He told me he'd just installed something called a 'mixing desk', and that the anticipated reforming of his band, The Timelords, was now probably not going to happen, due to a clash of egos. I sympathised outwardly, but inside I couldn't have cared less.
On April 10th I took The Last Thing on some courier runs; Stellar Beer to Delta Pavonis, and copper to Mombaluma. Perplexingly, a mission to carry butternut squash to Minmar ended in abject failure, when I was uable to locate the destination. I scanned the entire system, but Kandel Hub was nowhere to be found. I felt furious at being led on a wild goose chase, and abandoned the contract for a fine of 540CR. Fortunately the astrocartography I had gained brought in 48,000CR.
"Screw you, Kandel Hub," I thought.
After completing my last delivery, at Mombaluma, I was preparing to return to Beta Hydri when I caught sight of my reflection in a control panel.
My hair was still a mess from being hacked short by Gayle Graham's knife. My eyes looked tired and worn. My cheeks were drawn, and my complexion sallow. I was ugly. I couldn't face Sam like this, knowing his love for me was down to mere pity. No man would want me, looking the way I did.
I powered down The Last Thing, booked into a room on Leavitt Orbital, and cried myself to sleep.
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Thank you to commanders Karvin Delront, Absalom Taak, Hunter "Casooch" Casucci, Kyle "Volgend" Senreiko, Argent Steel and Aidan Venters. And, of course, to Sam Hodkin.