Personal Log 135: 28th September – 21st October, 3302
28 Nov 2016Jemine Caesar
28th September – 21st October, 3302I steered The Last Thing through Clair Dock's access corridor and dropped onto landing pad 1. I'd half expected to have already been blasted to smithereens by a passing gang of pirates, but so far so good.
"Now what?" I asked myself as the ship was shunted into position in the hangar. I waited a few minutes in anticipation of receiving a message from my unknown contact, then gave up and booked myself in to a room. Exhausted from the stress of the journey, I had little difficulty in falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
I woke hours later to the beeping of my dataslate signalling a new message.
"Wotcher, Jemine!" it read. "Welcome to Pegasi! Get some clothes on. I'm waiting outside."
Mindful of the explosive choker around my neck, I took a careful shower and then got dressed. After brushing my hair and applying a little bit of makeup, I popped the datachip into my handbag and ran out the front door, immediately colliding with a tall man in a long black coat.
"Bloody 'ell, sweet'eart!" growled the man. "Took yer bleedin' time, dincher?"
"I was as quick as I could be," I replied, flustered. Closing the apartment door behind me, I looked at the face of the man. "Wait a minute, I know you from somewhere..."
The tall man nodded down at me. "You got a good memory fer faces, sweet'eart. Lukky's Bar, on Luk Station, 70 Ophiuchi. You thought I was trying to pick you up."
"Yes," I said. "I remember. Then you must be Marty Aston, Gayle Graham's bodyguard. She told me all about you."
Aston's face clouded. "Did she, now?"
"Your job was to protect her son by keeping an eye on me. Gayle didn't know what my intentions were when I finally met up with John on Earth. You disobeyed orders by trying to ask me outright. Gayle didn't like that one bit."
"My own stupid fault for tellin' 'er," he said. "Yeah, well, that's all in the past, innit? You eaten?"
"What? No, not yet— "
"Come on, I'll stand you breakfast."
Aston led me to a nearby cafe called the Benbo Coffee Emporium. Over a mug of thick, dark brown liquid and a stale blueberry muffin, Aston got down to business.
"We've wasted enough time, faffin' about," he said. "Hand over the datachip."
"Before I do," I said, "tell me what's on it."
"What? Why?"
"Because I'm sitting here wearing an exploding necklace."
Aston shrugged. "Ah, what the 'ell. All right, I'll tell ya, for what good it'll do. The chip contains the title deeds to three weapons factories, previously owned by JG Industries."
"I see," I said. "And who do they belong to now? You?"
"Me?" chuckled Aston. "Nah! I'm just hired help, same as you. See, after things went belly up for me with Gayle Graham, I was in the market for a new job. I ended up 'ere."
"Evidently," I replied. "In that case, who do you work for?"
"The outfit who owns this system, of course. Black Omega."
"Never heard of them," I said, taking the datachip out of my bag. "Here's the chip. Now, get this thing off my neck and I'll be on my way."
Aston took the chip, and then shook his head. "Sorry, sweet'eart. It ain't as easy as that. I'm afraid you're gonna be around 'ere for a bit longer."
"What?" I gasped. "What do you mean? How much longer?"
"Like I said, I'm the hired help. Now, bein' hired help might be OK for some. But me, I got ambitions, see? Black Omega likes its employees to show initiative, and it don't tolerate failure."
Aston leaned forward. "I may be just another Black Omega minion," he said. "But I'm aiming to prove to them that I got what it takes. And you are gonna help me do that, sweet'eart. From now on, you're working for me."
"Why?" I asked, incredulous. "Why me?"
"Because you're the one with the bomb round yer neck, and I'm the only one who can take it off again without it going POP! Now, Black Omega has big plans. They control a clutch of systems already, and they're looking to expand again. I want you to get yer arse over to HIP 106072. I've arranged a gaff on Smith Dock for you to stay in. All you have to do is work for Black Omega, simple as."
"Look," I said. "You can't keep me here for ever."
"Oh, you can leave whenever you like, sweet'eart. But that piece of jewellery stays where it is until I say so."
"And when will that be?"
Aston smiled. "OK, you want me to set you a target? All right, how's this? You work for me until your rep with Black Omega reaches 100% Allied level. I don't care how you do it. Run deliveries, trade on the market, sell astro-data... maybe even a little smuggling..."
"I'm no pirate!" I retorted.
"Not yet," Aston replied, smiling humourlessly.
"Not ever!" I spat back. "As soon as this thing comes off my neck, I'm out of here!"
"Fair enough," said Aston. "And I'll be watching your progress carefully. In the meantime, do yourself a favour; buy some new clothes. Everyone round 'ere will take you for a dock knocker with the fancy clobber you're wearin'."
*****
Later, back in my apartment, I contacted Sam to tell him of the latest development.
"I might have known," he said, angrily. "Do you want me to come over there and sort this guy out?"
"Gaia! No, Sam!" I replied. "Black Omega seems to be a ruthless bunch. Aston may be just a minion with delusions of grandeur, but he's got me where he wants me. It's perfectly clear that Aston has a boss he's trying to impress, and he's using me to do it. I'm Aston's meal ticket, so I'm safe for as long as he is."
"OK," said Sam, the reluctance evident in his voice. "But I don't like the idea of you being forced to work for pirates and crooks."
I closed the k-cast link unable to help wondering whether I'd be able to keep the promise I had just made to Sam. Catching sight of my reflection in the mirror, I recalled Aston's advice about buying myself some new clothes. It could take quite some time to increase my Black Omega rep to Allied, so I decided that I may as well try to blend in with the locals as best I could. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I set off for the Clair Dock shopping malls.
Dark colours certainly seemed to be the thing here, and most people I saw wore practical, no-nonsense clothing. After several hours I returned to my apartment laden with bags containing various items of suitable garments, mostly of black leather. I may not be a pirate, but at least I now looked like one.
The next day I left Tjakiri and flew to HIP 106072, taking up my temporary residence on Smith Port. Following a quick tour of the starport's main points of interest (clothes shops, hairdressers, beauticians, bars and restaurants), I returned to The Last Thing and powered up to begin work.
My first job was straightforward enough; bring three canisters of cobalt. This was readily available at nearby Vishkyamu, and on completion of the task my rep with Black Omega was raised to Cordial.
Over the next few days I became familiar with the other neighbouring systems of Parana, Paliti, Kun, Suya, Ts'in Gu and Supera. I was relieved to find that I could carry out my obligation to Marty Aston by doing what I did best, namely cargo and data deliveries. And Black Omega actually paid surprisingly well.
Naturally, there were plenty of rival factions opposed to Black Omega, and it wasn't long before I attracted the unwanted attentions of their pilots. Several of these attacks were made by Vultures, for which I found that I was inadequately skilled to defeat. I decided that my best course of action in these circumstances was to run. Fast.
*****
During the following three weeks I ran dozens of delivery missions for Black Omega. I also kept in regular contact with Sam, who was keen to make sure I was coping with the demands placed upon me by my handler, Marty Aston. Sam in turn updated me with his own news; Natalya had fallen victim to viscious bullying and had fled from Beta Hydri to Sol, where she had enrolled in a music school on Earth. Sam's parents had also gone to Earth, following a campaign of vandalism to the Red Rose pub by supporters of Arissa Lavigny-Duval. Sam's father, a staunch Federalist, had decided enough was enough and waved a sad goodbye to the Red Rose for ever.
I also heard from my friend Nathalie. She reported that her parents had also fled to the safe haven of Earth, after receiving death threats from members of the Kumo Crew. Wanting to assure herself that I was all right, Nath flew over to spend the night with me during one of my several stopovers at Clair Dock.
More delivery jobs followed in the ensuing days, helping my rep with Black Omega to creep up to Friendly level. Interdictions were becoming increasingly common, and I had my work cut out for me in evading a number of dangerous and determined opponents.
On October 17th I took on a mission to take a data file to Dozois Mine at Vishkyamu. Whilst crossing the system I was interdicted four times. The first three were each by one of Black Omega's rivals. The fourth interdiction, however, was different. It was by one of Black Omega's own ships.
My assailant was a Cobra III, flown by a Mostly Harmless rated pilot named Cherisch Cheerful. I was confident that I'd be able to defeat her, but something told me it wouldn't be a good idea to take down a ship belonging to the very organisation I was working for. I opened a direct comms channel.
"Commander Cheerful," I said, as sternly as I could. "I am engaged on Black Omega business. Stand down your weapons."
"Or else... what?" came the uncertain reply.
"Or else I will ensure that you do not live to regret your actions."
Commander Cheerful laughed. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Marra Morgan?"
"Who's Marra Morgan?" I asked.
"Don't let her hear you say that," came the startled reply. "Marra would have your guts for garters just for not knowing her name. She's one of our leaders."
"I see," I said. "Tough, is she?"
"Tough? Listen, some of the things she's done to people don't bear thinking about. She once sliced a guy's stomach wide open, ripped out his liver and then made him eat it. She's tough, all right. Probably the Welsh blood."
"She's Welsh?" I asked, recalling my friends Bronwen and Myfanwy at Bhritzameno.
"Not exactly," replied Cherisch. "Marra is Cambrian. She was born in New Cambria, a Welsh colony in the Ts'in Gu system. They say she's descended from Henry Morgan, a notorious pirate from ancient Wales on Earth."
"She certainly sounds formidable," I agreed. "Have you met her?"
"Well, no," Cherisch admitted. "Not really."
"How long have you worked for Black Omega, Cherisch?" I asked.
"This is my second week," she replied, adding, "It was either this or go to university."
"All right," I said. "I'll make a deal with you. Let me carry on with my mission, and I won't tell Marra Morgan that it was you who got in my way and ruined her plans."
There was a long silence. Finally the Cobra retracted its weapons, turned about and left.
*****
"New orders for you," said Marty a few days later. "Head over to Njikas and do some exploring, then sell the results at Smith Port. That should keep you out of mischief!"
Njikas contained plenty of objects to scan, but within the first hour I was interdicted three times, all by Black Omega ships.
"Oh, come on!" I yelled. "This isn't fair! I'm on your side!"
The first two attackers were an Asp Scout and a Federal Gunship, both flown by Master-rated pilots. I used my Viper's speed to evade their laser fire, buying time for me to make low-wake escapes from each attack.
The third ship was a Viper IV. Her pilot, named Antagonist, was rated Mostly Harmless. Another new recruit, I thought.
Time for a bit of fun.
From what Cherisch Cheerful had told me, I surmised that the dreaded Marra Morgan spoke with an accent similar to that of Bron and Myffy. Hoping I was right, I cleared my throat and opened an audio-only comms channel.
"Attenshan, Antagonist!" I began. "This yerr is Marra Morgan, look you. I've stolan this ship, see? And you, boyo, aren't 'alf in deep shit, look you. So you 'ad betta stow your weapans, boyo, or I'll blast you into a millyan pieces, isn't it."
There was a few moments silence from the other ship. Then the pilot returned my hail.
"That," he said, laughing, "is the most piss poor Welsh accent I have ever heard in my life. I've met Marra Morgan, and you aren't her. But you've given me the best giggle I've had in ages, so I'm going to let you go. Now, bugger off before I change my mind!"
Antagonist sped away into the void, leaving me red-faced and vowing never to try doing impressions of pirate leaders again.
Or, for that matter, of anyone else.
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A very special thank you to Marra Morgan for her support and advice on this log.