Personal Log 144: 29 November - 6 December 3302
06 May 2017Jemine Caesar
29 November – 5 December 3302I allowed The Last Thing to remain in dock for the next few days. The simple truth was that I'd become sick of the sight of her, and I found myself beginning to once more seriously consider giving up being a spacer for good. Besides, I'd achieved what I'd originally set out to do, when I left my family back in February 3301; I had avenged the death of my daughter by taking the life of her father. The vow I'd made when I left home – to kill Caz even if it was "the last thing I do" – had been the inspiration for the name of my ship, the Sidewinder that Caz had given me.
But the harsh realities of space, coupled with my own shortcomings as a pilot, soon forced me to realise that I needed more protection than the Sidewinder would give me. So, after four months of trading and courier work, I had saved just enough credits to buy and equip a rather battered old Adder, which I promptly registered under the name of 'The Last Thing I Do'. It was this vessel that would carry me to Sol, where I would finally get to keep the promise I had made to myself - and to my daughter.
Curiously, the idea of simply purchasing a ticket on an Earth-bound passenger liner had never entered my head. I could easily have afforded the fare instead of buying an Adder. I could maybe even have hitched a ride on some trader ship. However, a lifetime of hardship and grinding poverty had been replaced with the means to support myself in whichever manner I chose. It seemed only natural that I should choose to make the most of my independence and do things for myself, at the controls of my own ship.
As it turned out, killing Caz – that is, killing John Graham – had not proven to be the last thing I did after all. Having literally gotten away with murder, I'd carried on with my life as a spacer, scraping together the credits to buy a succession of ships I considered more suitable to my needs and abilities. I'd never owned more than one ship at a time, and each of them had borne the same name: 'The Last Thing I Do'. It was a name which, from the outset, had given me a sense of purpose, fuelled by a stubborn determination to succeed.
But, for the time being at least, 'The Last Thing I Do' was actually the last thing I wanted to see. Instead I spent my time reading and watching holovids. I even managed to squeeze in a shuttle trip on a sightseeing tour of a Third World War battlezone. Not that there was much to see, of course, apart from a rather pathetic museum of ancient, unrecognisable exhibits.
On December 5th Sam learned that he'd been awarded the honorary rank of Ensign in the Fed Navy Auxiliary, having carried out a string of contracts over the past few weeks. I was happy for him, naturally, and had helped him to celebrate with some bulkhead-slamming sex, but my heart wasn't really in it for one simple reason; the next day, December 6th, was the second anniversary of Bekka's death. I passed the day alone, in the silent pain of my grief, with my head full of memories of what was and thoughts of what could have been.
I received a k-cast on the 7th from Admiral Remi of Federal Intelligence. His tersely worded message informed me that he would no longer be calling on me to assist in future operations. My integrity, as he put it, had been compromised by my "recent collaboration with certain forces opposed to the interests of the Federation".
Sam was incensed. "This is bollocks!" he said. "You were in Pegasi against your will. Remi can't just turf you out like this. It's not fair!"
"It's OK, Sam," I said. "As far as the Feds are concerned I was sleeping with the enemy out there. That makes me a security risk. Remi's probably only following orders. It's perfectly understandable, really."
But Sam was not to be placated, and within minutes had shot off a k-cast to Admiral Remi in protest. "I've told him to take my name off his list as well," he informed me afterwards. "So that's the end of our careers as Federal Agents."
"Frankly," I replied, "I don't give a fuck. As a matter of fact it's a weight off my shoulders. I'm done with being pushed around, Sam. I don't intend to be anyone's puppet plaything ever again. If there are any strings to be pulled, I'll pull them myself."
Sam whistled softly. "Am I speaking to the new Jemine Caesar?"
"You are," I answered. "And now I'm going to suit up. The Last Thing's been down there gathering dust long enough."
"What are you going to do?"
"To make shit happen for some bad guys. You want to come with me?"
*****
Admiral Remi's curt message of dismissal had been exactly the kick up the arse I'd needed. It had reminded me of the advice given to me by the late Marty Aston, to "make shit happen", and mooching around on a starport was, I realised, not the way to do it. The real action was out there, waiting in the void.
Sam had needed no second invitation to accompany me on a bounty hunting expedition, and a short time later we were prowling among the rocks of Saturn's rings. Sam's wing signal glowed softly on my HUD.
"Remember, Sam," I said over the comms. "Stay close, and don't take on anything we may not be able to match. Single ships only, no wings. I'll KWS any potential targets, then we go in together on my signal."
"10-4," came the reply.
We waited, patiently watching a lone Keelback's mining laser blasting away at a rock. As pieces of precious material floated free, the Keelback glided forward to scoop them up, then returned to her firing position to start the process over again. Meanwhile, in the shadows of a nearby rock, there lurked a solitary Adder.
"Looks like we have company," said Sam.
"The Adder? I've already scanned him. He's tagged as wanted, and rated Competent. He's just biding his time."
"Then why wait?" Sam's impatience was clear. "Let's get him."
"Not yet," I said. "I want him to make the first aggressive move."
"What for?"
"I prefer it when the bad guy shoots first, that's all. Don't worry, it won't be long."
Sure enough, a few minutes later the Adder pilot decided the time was ripe to make his move. Pulse laser bursts tore into the Keelback's shields, bringing a distress call from the surprised miner.
"Now, Sam," I said, and opened fire on the Adder. Sam did likewise, forcing the Adder to take evasive action by dashing round to the far side of the rock. As Sam gave direct chase, shooting furiously, I circled to meet the pirate on an intercept course and opened fire. The Adder pilot seemed momentarily confused to find himself suddenly caught in our crossfire and, after jinking this way and that, stowed his weapons and made a run for it.
"Oh no you don't," I said, as Sam and I gave chase and pressed the advantage with our lasers. Even as my sensors detected the charge of the Adder's Frame Shift Drive, our quarry was engulfed in a fireball. Notification of our bounty award came through within moments.
Sam's voice came over my comms. "Got him."
"He was an easy target, Sam," I replied, remembering the near-fatal onslaught I had endured back in Pegasi. "They're not always like that."
"You don't need to remind me, my love. I have done this on my own plenty of times before, you know."
"Yes, I know you have. But now we're working as a team. Different rules."
Sam chuckled. "I think I approve of the new you."
We carried on with the bounty hunt, moving to a different part of the ring. Our next target, a Diamondback Explorer, proved a little harder to deal with. Her Expert-rated pilot knew a few tricks, and cockily taunted Sam and I as we became embroiled in combat.
"Come on, ladies!" he said. "Is that all you've got? I can do this all day."
Nevertheless, his day came to an end when a system patrol Viper joined in the fight, bringing another bounty notification to my HUD. I checked my sensors for the next target, only to see that Sam was already engaged in combat.
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Found our next target," he replied. "A Vulture."
"But I haven't scanned him yet. And you're out of my weapon range. Hold on, Sam, I'm coming."
I spun The Last Thing towards the direction of Sam's battle, and target-locked the Vulture. My sensor readout revealed her pilot was rated Dangerous, and Sam's wing icon was showing his shield strength had been heavily depleted.
"I don't think I can take much more," said Sam. I could hear the strain in his voice as he wrestled with his opponent. "My shields are gone, and I'm taking damage to systems. Hull is down to 65%."
By this time I was close enough to have a visual of the battle. The Vulture was relentless in attack, and Sam had his work cut out for him in dodging the onslaught. A missile streaked towards Sam's ship, and connected...
"Ouch," Sam yelped. "That hurt. Hull's down to 28%."
"OK," I said, rapidly approaching the scene. "I'm here. Get out, Sam."
Bringing The Last Thing into position above and behind the Vulture, relatively speaking, I targeted her Power Plant and fired my lasers, hoping it would buy Sam enough time to escape. But the Vulture pilot's reactions were quick, boosting his vessel away and then turning to face me with almost breathtaking efficiency. Now it was my turn to feel his wrath, as my shields were reduced to two rings. I diverted most of my power to systems in an attempt to bolster my fading shield strength, simultaneously firing my lasers. With insufficient power in the capacitor, however, my weapons were soon exhausted. Worse, my shields were now down to one ring, and even that was dwindling fast. The Vulture, on the other hand, showed no sign of damage at all.
"Warning," said my ship's AI. "Incoming missile."
I threw my ship into a roll, and hoped for the best. Luck was on my side, as the missile harmlessly streaked past and smashed into a rock. But the Vulture wasn't about to give up, and pummelled The Last Thing with laser fire, breaching my shields.
"Time to leave," I said to myself. I hit the boost button, sending The Last Thing hurtling straight towards the Vulture. As her pilot banked to avoid the collision, I pulled back on my flight stick and fled. The Vulture wheeled round in pursuit. Putting all my power into the engines, I dodged and weaved the continued assault as best I could. Hits were still registering on my monitor, and my shields had gone. My systems were taking the full brunt now, and my hull integrity was down to 43%
I just needed to get a little farther...
I hit the boost again, sending the ship forward with a surge of power. It was enough to allow a jump into supercruise, so I engaged FSD and nervously watched as it spooled up, all the while rolling and pitching The Last Thing to avoid the fury behind me. The FSD readout seemed painfully slow, but there was nothing I could do to hasten it. I stared out of the canopy at the receding rings of Saturn, and held my breath.
"4... 3... 2... 1... Engage"
*****
The repairs to our ships virtually wiped out what we'd made in bounties. I felt frustrated.
"I got a little carried away," Sam admitted as we sat in the Gettysburg bar on Abe Lincoln later.
"Yes," I agreed. "Taking on a Dangerous-rated pilot on your own, in an Asp, what the fuck were you thinking of?"
"I thought I could take him."
"You should have waited for me, at least. What did I say about staying close? Together we might have had a better chance. Next time, do as I tell you."
"Yes, ma'am!"
I looked at Sam's sheepish grin, and smiled.
"I'm sorry, Sam," I said, softening my voice. "I'm being such a stroppy cow, aren't I? I keep forgetting that you're the one who was in the Navy, running combat missions and getting into firefights with pirates. I'm just a silly bitch who thinks she learned a thing or two about bounty hunting from some chancer."
"Hey," said Sam, putting his hand on my knee. "You did learn a thing or two out there. That much is obvious from the way you handled yourself earlier. And you were perfectly right to bawl me out, too. I should have stayed in formation, instead of lone-wolfing it like some holovid action hero. Besides..."
His voice trailed off.
"What is it, Sam?" I asked.
"I've been thinking," he said, after a few moments. "P'raps it's time for a change of pace for me, too."
"In what way?"
"I don't know. Cargo deliveries, maybe. Or taxi runs. I think it's time for me to give bounty hunting a rest."
"Oh, Sam! This is not because of my stupidity, is it? Because of the way I spoke to you?"
"No, no, not at all. You weren't being stupid, believe me. But there are times..." Again his voice faded to a whisper. I waited for him to continue. "When I was chasing after that Vulture, I got flashbacks of Rotanev. You know, the ambush— "
"Yes," I said. "I remember."
"Well," he continued, "it's happened a few times recently. The flashbacks, I mean. It's hard to describe, but they've made me begin to re-evaluate what I want out of life. And I'm not sure that deliberately throwing myself into ship-to-ship combat is a necessary part of it anymore."
"I understand," I said. "They say there's a lot of money in running a taxi service."
"Yes. Doesn't sound very glamorous, though, does it?"
"No. But if it's what you want to do, then I support you completely. Everyone's entitled to change their mind about how to run their own lives, after all."
"And... what about you, Jem? What are you wanting out of your life?"
I smiled. Just a few days earlier I had been thinking about giving up being a spacer for good. To instead settle down into a humdrum existence, to grow fat and have lots of children. To turn my back on a lifetime of adventure, travel, discovery and danger.
"I told you. I want to make shit happen."
"Yes, but how?"
I picked up my dataslate, and checked my latest Combat Ranking: Novice, 65%.
"I'm not sure yet," I replied. "But I'm working on it."