Personal Log 153: 22 - 27 January, 3303
04 Jul 2017Jemine Caesar
22 – 27 January, 3303It soon became apparent that I would need a little time to grow accustomed to the Innocent Flower. Whilst larger and nimbler than the Viper, my new Vulture had only two hardpoints and a lower jump range. An overhaul of the ship's systems, including upgraded pulse lasers and a good fuel scoop, was my top priority on returning to Beta Hydri. Then, once the work had satisfied the outfitter's quality tests, I took my latest acquisition out to perform a few tests of my own. Suffice it to say that my test programme raised my combat rating to Competent+35%.
Sam, meanwhile, was beginning to enjoy his new career as a taxi driver. It seemed there was no shortage of rich business executives and minor celebrities prepared to pay ridiculous fees for a simple sightseeing trip. Not that Sam was complaining about that, of course.
Early on January 27th, Sam and I were woken by the beeping of Sam's dataslate. Sam picked it up and tapped the display screen a couple of times, then frowned.
"Oh..."
"What is it, Sam?"
"A message from my next passenger. I accepted a booking from him yesterday, to take him to Ross 720 tomorrow to attend a business meeting."
"So?"
"He says the meeting's been brought forward, so he needs to go today instead. As soon as possible, in fact. He's waiting for me now, in the passenger lounge. And that's not all..."
"Go on. What else does he say?"
"He says he hopes my ship is fast and well-armed, because certain parties would prefer him to not reach Ross 720."
"Hmm, doesn't sound like your average sightseer, does he? Can't you just tell him to find himself another pilot?"
Sam shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, I'm afraid. I signed a contract. If I pulled out of it now, he could sue me for every credit I've got."
"Great," I said, getting out of bed. "OK, I'll escort you in the Flower. Hopefully any would-be assassins might think twice about taking on two ships." I pulled on my flightsuit. "Come on, we mustn't keep the gentleman waiting, must we?"
As it turned out, our fifty-three light-year trip to Ross 720 was completely trouble free. After docking at Raleigh Orbital and taking payment from his rather ungracious passenger, Sam suggested we find a restaurant for something to eat. While strolling through the starport's entertainment district, I was pleasantly startled to hear a familiar voice calling out my name. I turned to see Suzanne Telford walking towards me, a broad smile on her face.
Suzanne had, like me, been one of the women on the 'harem list' of John Graham junior, and a survivor of Gayle Graham's attempt to murder us all. Seeing her now reminded me that I'd promised myself to visit all the harem girls. I felt a pang of guilt that I had yet to keep any part of that promise.
"Suzanne!" I said, giving her a hug. "It's so good to see you again! But I thought you'd gone back to Swigert Port?"
Suzanne was the owner of a beautechnician's salon on Swigert Port in the Chowei C system, just over six light-years from Ross 720.
"I did," replied Suzanne, "but I met this fella a while back, and, well, to cut a long story short, I sold up and moved here to be with him. His name's Noah, and he works as an administrator for one of the factions here, the Crimson Mercenary Dragoons."
"Sounds like a military organisation," I remarked.
"They do a bit," Suzanne said, with a nod. "They're actually a cooperative. People have been getting fed up with how the Federation runs things in this system. There's all sorts going wrong, but the Feds don't seem to care, and none of the other factions can be arsed enough to do anything about it. Then there's Chowei Limited..."
"Who are they?" asked Sam.
"Exactly!" replied Suzanne, raising both hands palms upwards. "They're supposed to be based in Chowei, but they don't have a registered presence there at all! Some of us think Chowei Limited is a clandestine group aiming to destabilise Ross 720. There are even rumours that they're in cahoots with the Empire."
"But why?"
"No one knows. As I say, it's all rumour and conjecture, but Chowei Limited has been here for ages, picking fights with the other factions. It's a total mess."
"Yes," I agreed. "It sounds like it."
"People want change," said Suzanne. "Noah said that CMD— Crimson Mercenary Dragoons— was founded to try and shake things up a bit, but it's been tough going. Progress has been slow. We need all the help we can get to raise our system influence rating. We've even put out calls for mercs."
I nodded slowly. "All right," I said. "Count me in. For old times' sake. I'll run a few missions for CMD, and see how it goes."
Suzanne was very grateful for my declaration of support. After she'd gone, Sam and I continued our quest to find somewhere to have a meal. We settled on an attractive-looking Italian restaurant in a side mall just off the Pilot's Market.
"So," began Sam as our food was being served, "now you've signed up to do merc work for a faction run by a bunch of idealogical revolutionaries, purely on the basis that you happen to know the girlfriend of one of said faction's administrators. What was that you were telling me about you not being impulsive?"
"Oh, shut up and eat your pizza," I said.