Personal Log 154: 28 January – 15 February, 3303
06 Jul 2017Jemine Caesar
28 January – 15 February, 3303Crimson Mercenary Dragoons may have merely been a recently added feature to the political landscape of Ross 720, but the presence of the faction had not gone unnoticed. The leaders of Natural Ross 720 Focus had their own dictatorial ambitions for the system, and regarded CMD as a minor irritation to be brushed aside like a fly. They had brokered a deal with Lawson 'Two-Finger' Fuchs, a sympathetic mercenary and anarchist, whereby Fuchs would carry out raids on CMD supply vessels in return for beer and onionhead.
My first task for CMD was to find this Fuchs and eliminate him. Some 'reliable intel' had been received saying his next attack would take place in the nearby system of Panoi. The reports also said that Fuchs was a Competent-rated pilot who always operated alone. I was to shadow the intended target, an Adder with a hold full of potatoes and coffee, and deal with the pirate when he appeared.
"I assume the supply ship commander is aware that he's being used as bait?" I asked the CMD contact as I prepared for take-off.
"Newp," came the reply. "We though it best not to spook him. Don't contact him yourself, either. If he gets wind of the fact he's been set up as a lure, he's apt to do a runner before Fuchs shows up."
"Well," I said, "we wouldn't want your intel to be wasted, now would we?"
Arriving in Panoi ahead of the Adder, I withdrew to a safe distance from the star and checked my sensors for traffic. Presently the Adder's ID popped up, closely attended by not one by two two other vessels. These were an Asp Explorer and a Cobra III. Both ships were moving directly towards the Adder.
"Shit!" I said to myself. "They told me this bugger always worked solo!"
Seconds later the Adder dropped out of supercruise, her pilot immediately sending out a desperate distress call. I opened a comms channel to him.
"Put four pips to your systems and make a run for it. I'm on my way to help."
Dropping down into normal space, I could see the hapless Adder being raked by laser fire from the Asp Explorer. Deploying the Flower's twin pulse lasers, I sped towards the attacker to get within firing distance.
Suddenly another ship ID popped onto my scanner. It was a Cobra III, which I presumed was the same one I'd detected in supercruise a few minutes before. I contacted the supply ship once more.
"High wake out of here as soon as you get your FSD back," I told him.
"No shit!" came the frightened reply. "That's what the fella in the Cobra said, too!"
"The Cobra?" I said, checking my sensors again. I was still marginally outside laser range of the Asp, but the Cobra had already closed the gap and was firing. Fuchs' shields were buckling rapidly.
"You bastard!" I muttered, glaring at the Cobra. "Leave some of him for me!"
In range at last, I directed my own weapons at the Asp and fired. Twin pulses of energy arced across space, connecting with the hull of the pirate ship. By this time, however, the Cobra's own lasers had depleted the Asp's shields, and multi-cannons were now finishing the job. Unable to escape the onslaught, the Asp began to shed bits of metal and components, bursting into a short-lived ball of flame just seconds later.
I checked my HUD; if my computer had recorded that I'd inflicted a large-enough share of damage on the pirate's ship, I'd receive notification of a bounty award. There was none, but my comms panel beeping an incoming hail from the pilot of the blue Cobra which was now moving into position above me.
"Attention," he said. "This is commander Simon Datura of the Cobra Discordia. Stand down your weapons and state your intention."
My intention? I opened my comms panel to reply.
"This is commander Jemine Caesar. My intention was to destroy that pirate ship and claim the reward. Until you barged in and took it out from under my nose, that is."
"Barged in?" replied Datura. "For your information, commander Caesar, I didn't just barge in at all. I was here acting on instructions."
"Instructions? Whose instructions?"
"Crimson Mercenary Dragoons. Not that it's any of your business."
"What?" I said, aghast. "But that's who I'm working for, too!"
"Seriously?" said Datura, with a chuckle. "Now that's a kicker. So why didn't they bother to tell us about each other? Might have saved a bit of time."
"You didn't seem to do too badly on your own," I said. "The fight was over by the time I got into range."
"Yeah, well, sorry 'bout that. To be honest with you, I wish you had got him instead. I'm not too keen on kill jobs."
"So why take this one, then?"
"Long story."
"Involving a pretty girl, by any chance?"
"No!" There was a short pause. "Maybe. OK, yes."
"Well, " I said, "I wouldn't lose too much sleep over it. Fuchs was a pirate, after all. He had it coming."
"Yeah..." There was an oddly thoughtful tone in Datura's voice.
"Well, commander Datura," I said, "no hard feelings about this one, hmm? I'm staying on Raleigh Orbital, so maybe I'll see you around there?"
"You bet. And please, call me Simon. Maybe we can wing up properly next time round."
"That's a deal. And you can call me Jem."
*****
The next few days saw rising tensions between Crimson Mercenary Dragoons and Natural Ross 720 Focus. The resulting civil war provided mercenaries on both sides with opportunities to earn combat bonds. My own participation in the skirmishes was brief, but enough to raise my rep with CMD to 'cordial'. More importantly for CMD, victory in the civil war won them control of McQuay Oasis, a small installation on the fifth planet's inner moon. McQuay Oasis was a 'duster', so-called because it had no proper docking facilities. Any ships landing there simply raised dust, hence the nickname.
Sam contributed to CMD's cause by carrying out cargo and data delivery work whenever he could. Now that CMD's fortunes were on the increase, their newly-acquired boom-state meant plenty of work was available.
"I've had news from home," Sam said. "My sister Jenna and Andrew are getting married on April the fifteenth. They're staying in Scotland on Earth for a couple of weeks."
"Oh, that's wonderful," I said, smiling happily. "We'll be going to the wedding, of course?"
"Of course. It'll be a small affair, down on Homeland. With Andrew being of Scottish descent, he's asking all the men to wear a kilt. He's entitled to wear the tartan of the Thomas clan, his surname being Thoms."
I shrugged. "I'll take your word for it, though it all sounds a total mystery to me. How many bridesmaids is Jenna having?"
"Two," replied Sam. "My sister Sarah, obviously. And you, if you're willing."
"I'd be thrilled," I said, grinning.
*****
With the civil war over, there was little scope for the Innocent Flower to become embroiled in combat for CMD. So, in an effort to make her more useful, I had the fuel scoop put into storage to make room for a larger cargo bay. Cargo runs to nearby systems such as Liaedin, Lokitaka Mu and Kokojina brought in some much needed credits, as well as bolstering CMD's system influence.
A series of jobs brought both Sam and I close to Sol, so we decided to pay a surprise visit to Jenna and Andrew in Scotland. As it turned out, it was Jenna and Andrew who gave us the bigger surprise, by informing us that they were expecting their second child.
"It's due at the end of September," said a clearly elated Jenna. "Fingers crossed I don't have the same issues with this one as I did with Isla. Still, whatever will be, will be."
Our stay in Scotland was very restful, if a little cold and rainy. There was a lot of wedding talk of course, and Andrew told me all about tartans and ancient Scottish customs.
It was lovely to see their daughter, Isla Rebekka, now almost fourteen months old and burbling away quite happily in her own unique baby language. She was a very affectionate little girl, and holding her in my arms brought back so many memories of my own daughter.
When Sam and I returned to Ross 720 on February the sixth, it was to find that Ross 720 Gold State had begun to make 'show of strength' attacks on CMD ships. This state of affairs went on for another week or so, until both factions decided enough was enough and called a truce. My own contributions to the cause, together with several reaping excursions to neighbouring systems, saw my combat rating rise to Competent+52%.
On the morning of the fifteenth of February, I told Sam I was heading out on a pilgrimage to LHS 3447-A5.
"Today would have been Bekka's thirteenth birthday," I said, "So I want to go to the place where she was born. To think about her and remember her. And, quite probably, to cry about her."
"Of course," Sam replied. "Would you like to go alone?"
"No. I'd like you to come with me. Please?"
Sam smiled gently, and kissed me on the forehead. "I'd be honoured."
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Author's Note
A big thank you to commander Simon Datura for his help and support in this instalment