A Very Special Reaper Diaries Christmas: Part 1
25 Dec 2015Michael Wolfe
<Incoming transmission>From home? Huh. That’s weird.
Dear Matt,
Your father and I are trying something new this year. He’s been selected to participate in a research group that is studying Old Earth customs. A big part of the research is doing their best to re-create certain holidays, and even though the calendars don’t line up exactly, he volunteered to recreate the Christmas holiday as it was practiced during the pre-exploration era of the 20th century.
We both would love it if you could come home for a few days later this month. Records are sketchy, but it seems that December 25th was the customary day to celebrate Christmas, with the day before also holding a special significance. Apparently, gift giving was also practiced, but your father tells me that one gift per person would be enough for research purposes. Of course, we would love to see you anyway, since we almost never hear from you since you got that fancy job flying all over the place in that spaceship of yours.
Christmas then wasn’t too much different than the way that it’s celebrated in Federation space, except that it was far less commercialized, and only lasted a single day instead of the Black November buying spree like they have over there. It’ll only be us three, but if there’s a special woman in your life you haven’t told us about yet, we would love to meet her! Grandchildren don’t just show up in the mail, you know!
We look forward to hearing from you, and I’m sure your father would say hi if he could tear himself away from his research.
Love,
Mom and Dad
<end of transmission>
I looked up. Christmas? With mom and dad?
Even if it was for research purposes, it was a pretty bizarre thing for them to do, especially out in Imperial space. The Federation still observed Christmas, of course, but the way they did it was considered an indulgence of some of the worst aspects of their culture everywhere else in the bubble. It was almost entirely driven by corporate greed, with big business and the media flooding the holo-networks with messages of love via consumerism. People would plunge themselves into debt to buy all the material objects that Federation corporate media insisted were the only valid symbols of their self-worth and love for family.
Ugh. No thanks.
Then there was the “bring a date” part. That one really threw me. Every time I had seen them, there was always the token inquiry after my love life, after which I would then shrug and say was difficult for a pilot to pull off. Usually, mom and pop had the decency to move on after that, but if they’re bringing it up already, then-
Then mom would love it if I showed up with someone. But who? And where was I going to find a date on such short notice?
A feminine voice called me from the pilot’s cabin of the Hand of Blue.
“Hello? Mark? You there, baby?”
I spun around. She was up already?
“It’s Matt. And I’m in the cockpit.”
My friend-for-hire from the night before was already awake and leaning against the bulkhead. Expectantly, she held out her hand.
I stood up, and put a handful of credit chips into it. While she was accepting the money, I found myself sizing her up and entertaining an absolutely crazy idea.
Hmmmm. Possibly. Get her into some nice clothes, cover up the tattoos, teach her how to talk pretty…
“You heading to Fed space?”
I looked up, into her eyes for once. They were still a little sleepy, but inquisitive.
“Beg pardon?”
“Federation space. For Christmas. You heading that way?”
I shook my head. “No miss, I ain’t. I tend to stay among the blue dots.”
She sighed. “Figures. Federation is lucrative this time of year. Always some desperate loser wantin’ to take me home to meet mom and dad for Christmas, convince 'em he's found that special someone. They pay top dollar for me to play along. Pity the poor bastards who have to do that, huh?”
Ok, never mind.
I shrugged and tried my best to nod my head agreeably. “Yeah, I mean- who would ever even consider that, right?”
She grinned and started climbing out the entrance. “You'd be surprised. Until next time, Mark!”
I walked up to the hatch where she was already making her way back into the docking bay.
“It’s Matt!”
I slumped down into my bunk, considering my parent’s invitation.
Christmas. Who does that? Other than Federation consumer sheep.
I sighed. Still, it’s been awhile since you’ve seen mom and pop. They miss you. And it’s not even for another week.
What did I have going on, anyway?
I wasn’t on assignment with anyone. Gideon hadn’t been bothering me too much with Inquisition work since the situation with the Emperor’s Dawn had settled down. Cassius was off doing God-knows-what with the Legion, and Rax? I hadn’t heard from him since the last time I had seen him in that abandoned mine-turned-smuggler base, and poking around there wasn’t exactly an option these days. In truth, I didn’t know if he was dead or alive, but he also had a way of disappearing for long stretches of time.
My time had been spent rooting out Kumo Crew agents who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. When I got bored with that, I headed to the extraction zones deemed too hazardous by local authority to deal with. As long as I picked my targets carefully and didn’t do anything stupid, those places were a damn payday. But I was reaping on a strictly independent basis. I could leave at any time.
So, I had the clearable schedule. There was no excuse to not spend a few days with them.
Ok, I’m doing this.
Then, there was the question of companionship. Dock-knockers were out, for obvious reasons. I really only knew one woman in the ‘verse- and I was feeling mighty conflicted about calling her, let along introducing her to mom and dad. But in the end, I had no choice.
“Matty!!! It’s so good to see you!!!”
Kyndi’s face was lit up like a firework on my viewscreen. Either she really was happy to see me, or I had caught her just as an Onionhead joint was kicking in.
I smiled. “It’s been awhile, darlin’. How’s that Cobra treatin’ you?”
“Well, no complaints about the handling or the hauling, but-“
“But what?”
She made an exaggerated pouty face. “But that empty seat next to me makes it seem so lonely in here!”
I laughed. “Well, maybe I can help you out with that.”
Her eyes sparked. Was that from missing me, or the money from the job she’s certain I’m about to propose?
“Whatcha got in mind?”
I took a deep breath. Ok, here goes.
“It’s… not really a job. More like a personal favor.”
Kyndi cocked her head to the side. “You do remember what happened last time you said that?”
I nodded. “Yes, I do. But it ain't like that. I promise.”
A skeptical look crossed Kyndi’s face. “No white knight quests to save any adorable children?”
“Nope.”
“No slave mines to rescue your ass from?”
“There won’t be a mine in sight.”
“No demons from our pasts that will need slaying?”
“No personal demons.”
“No cave-dwelling flesh beasts out to eat us?”
“You have the ‘no flesh beast guarantee’ on this one.”
“No alien artifacts that make our ships go haywire for no damn reason?”
I furrowed my brow. “Aw, c’mon darlin’, that’s how we met! And no. I’m done with those.”
She shrugged and smiled. “Then how bad can it be?”
Here goes.
“I was wondering… would you like to spend Christmas with me and my family for a few days? Three at the most.”
For a moment, Kyndi’s face just froze, with even her smile remaining fixed. Then, her mouth opened slightly, and she was able to speak. Barely.
“Christmas? Like… family? And presents? And singing carolers? And hot chocolate? And Santa Claus?”
I nodded my head. “Someone’s been watching Federation holovision.”
She didn’t reply, just shook her head slightly, with the deer-in-the-headlights look still in her eyes. “You want me… to spend three days... with you and your parents? Three days of wholesome family bullshit? Me?”
I held out my hands. “You’d be doing me a huge favor. You have no idea!”
Kyndi just stared, mouth still agape. Finally, she exhaled, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. Judging from the throaty sounds coming out of her mouth and the way she was moving her lips, it looked like she was struggling to form words.
<transmission terminated>
I shook my head. I’m going to take that as a “no”.
Well, you can’t have Christmas without Christmas shopping. I slipped on my leather jacket and flew down to the surface of Kamadhenu. It was an Imperial core world, so shopping was expensive, but also worth it.
For my father, I bought an old, old copy of A Children’s History of Achenar. It was bound in real leather, and was over six hundred years old. Flipping through it, it was amusing to see all of the old prejudices against the Federation even more pronounced in Imperial literature, and the baldly self-serving justifications for exterminating the sentient indigenous life on Achenar.
Father will have a great time with this.
Then there was mom. She was always tricky to shop for, because she was the type to insist that she didn’t ever want anything. Of course, you got her something anyway, because that’s what you do for your mother.
So, what to get for mom?
Well, mom gets cold a lot. She isn’t into things, so much as comfort. So- heavy cotton sheets imported from an Alliance co-op, absurdly thick wool socks from an organic sheep farmer in Utopian space, and a blanket made out of synth-grown chinchilla fur all hit my credit account.
Yeah. That ought to do it.
Ok. That wasn’t so bad. I wouldn’t want to spend half of my year’s pay buying multiple things for everyone I know like they do in Fed space… but that wasn’t bad. Shopping bags in both hands, I headed back to the starport.
Time to head home .
I come from an Earth-like world in the middle of Imperial space. It’s just nice enough to be civilized, but far enough away from Achenar that it doesn’t get over-developed into a mess of a metropolis, either. Mom and Pop live in an old fashioned brick house with lots of modern amenities, but old-world touches like wooden desks and cloth furniture. The place is actually surrounded by a large plot of undeveloped land, and it’s only a short distance away from the small college where dad teaches. Mom commutes into the city to get to her accounting firm.
I looked around my ship. The Hand of Blue was my baby, but showing up in a dedicated murdership was sure to make for awkward conversation. I hate to omit important details of my life from my parents- but as far they’re concerned, I’m a truck driver who lived out of his Type-7. No need to burden them with the fact that I switched to bounty hunting years ago, or that I’ve been involved with smuggling, piracy, the Imperial Inquisition, Lavignly’s Legion…
Wow. I’m all over the damn place. Guess that’s why they call it freelancing.
I landed back at Shajn Market, my unofficial home port where all my ships were stored. Even though it would be consistent to just show up in my Type-7, I really, really hated flying the thing. That left my Imperial Eagle, my Courier, my Viper, and my Asp.
Of all those, the Asp was the best suited for getting places quickly, and was a fine choice for road trips anyway. I contacted the dock manager to have them bring her out of storage and start getting her prepped. It had been awhile since I flown her, and I didn’t want any surprises.
As I was packing clothes for the trip in my apartment, my comm beeped at me. I picked it up, and-
<Still need a Christmas date?>
Well, holy shit. But after the attitude she pulled, it was time to mess with her.
<All good now. Paid a dock knocker 500 credits to come with>
Nothing for a few moments.
<WHAT>
Totally worth it.
<Kidding. Yes, would love to have you along>
Almost immediately, she replied:
<Almost had to kill a bitch>
I laughed. Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, darlin’? After that, another message showed up.
<Where are we meeting?>
I smiled as I typed.
<Shajn. Same place as usual>
<On my way. Be there tomorrow>
Ok, Looks like I’ve got a date.
Now that I'd solved one problem, another had surfaced. I was pretty much obligated to buy Kyndi a gift, too. The only thing harder than working with Kyndi was shopping for her.
What exactly does one purchase for a smartass, Onionhead-smoking smuggler?
She already had guns. She already had clothes. She already had-
Onionhead?
I didn’t know diddly about the drug, but I had been around her enough to know that that there were “good” and “bad” varieties of the crop. It was like booze- for someone who had never tried it, it would all seem the same. So- a really special kind of Onionhead?
Ok. That seemed like a great gift for her. Deciding was the easy part.
The hard part was finding it.
This deep into the Imperial core, there was only one port that could possibly suit my needs: Kagawa station, in the Achenar system itself. Flying in my Asp, it wouldn’t take very long to get there- but it was in the middle of goddamn nowhere. You could think of it as the token slum a few blocks away from a ritzy neighborhood. Why Imperial authorities tolerated such a beacon of scum in their own capital system was a mystery. My guess was that it was better to keep the riffraff confined to a place that far, far away, and easily contained- rather than send them underground by smashing their base.
So, I flew to Kagawa, and docked at one of the only medium pads the outpost had. Like I said, it was an eyesore, but one the Imperials tolerated. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely lost, since I had in the past delivered a handful of shipments here that some of my more upstanding contacts might have found distasteful. I was able to find the unlicensed pharmacologists easily enough.
"And what exactly is it you seek?”
We were in the backroom of a dingy little shop. A diminutive old man who looked like he was of Old Earth Asian stock was staring serenely at me. Narcotics of every kind surrounded us.
“O-head, your best stuff.”
He nodded sagely, and returned shortly after with with three samples. He laid them out on an antique wooden counter, and described them as proudly as one might their own children.
“This one, very good. Only have a small amount. From Panem, special blend. Organic, high amount of active chemical.”
He set it aside, and pointed next to the simple simple wooden box next to it. Sliding aside the cover, he looked up at me. “This one smuggled out of a Federation lab. Experimental, very concentrated. A little go a long ways. Very rare, very special.”
The last box was an ornate, hand-painted bronze chest. It had ancient Chinese dragons coiling all around the sides, and also seemed hand-sculpted. Opening it up, the inside was lined with purple velvet, with a simple golden capsule resting inside.
“This one, highly prized. Also from Panem, but from original crop. Cross-bred with cannabis and coca plant. Very hard to grow, but if smoked?” The old man’s eyes crinkled with a smile- “Takes you to heaven.”
Damn. I’m not even a smoker and I’m excited.
“I’ll take the last one. How much?”
The man’s eyes widened. “Ten thousand. Box included.”
It’s a good thing I like you so much, Kyndi.
I handed the man a credit chip. This had better send you to heaven or else I’m smoking it myself.
“Hello, Matty!” Kyndi skipped off the ramp of her Cobra and gave me a great big hug and kiss. Good idea or not, it was great to see her.
Kyndi punched in a work order on her terminal, and she took my arm, holding it as we walked along and caught up on the way back to my apartment. As we opened the door, she saw all the gifts I had bought for my parents, and frowned. “You haven’t wrapped them yet?”
I shrugged. “I was hoping to bribe you into it.”
She looked at me, her head cocked at an angle. “What is it with men and gift-wrapping? It really isn’t rocket science!”
I went to my cupboard and brought out a bottle of Old Sol. It was a holiday blend, brewed with honey and blackberry. “At least we’ll have this to keep us company, right?”
Kyndi’s eyes shot up. She reached into her pocket and produced a small baggy of what I knew was Onionhead.
“I’d say we’ve got everything we need to get in the Christmas spirit!”
Smiling, Kyndi and I immediately began pouring alcohol down our throats, with Kyndi adding the mellow, pleasing effects of Onionhead to the mix. I had also bought some generic boxes, tape, and ribbons, so between each other’s company and the substances coursing through our systems, we were more than happy to be celebrating Christmas.
It took a couple tries, but we were able to get all the presents drunkenly wrapped. I was even able to make sure that Kyndi’s special present was included. Sweetheart that she was, she had also showed up with three things for my mom, dad, and me. As we were wrapping, she made me turn my back while she shoved the gifts into their own boxes. Still, we drank, smoked, wrapped gifts, swapped stories, and laughed at all the absurd paint jobs available for ships like the Cobra that Kyndi flew in on.
Finally, we collapsed into bed, almost totally passed out from our exertions.
“Not a bad start to Christmas, so far.”
I smiled and drunkenly kissed her. “Ready to meet the parents?”
Kyndi hiccuped and giggled. “I don’t think a girl is ever ready to meet the parents.”
Laughing, we drifted off to sleep, surrounded by shreds of wrapping paper, gifts, and an empty bottle of booze.
Ow.
I sat up, pressing my temples in with my hands.
Why do you still drink like you’re ten years younger than you are, Matt?
It was the question I asked myself every time I drank too much the night before.
Because booze is good. And you had company.
I looked down at my company, still wearing her clothes from last night. She had just awakened, smiling up at me.
The hell are you so happy about?
I went back to cradling my head in my hands, summoning up the will to rise out of bed and get to the bathroom, where both a shower and headache medicine awaited.
A hand patted me on back. “Good morning, Matty!”
I looked over my shoulder at Kyndi, who was already sitting up and beaming.
“For you, maybe. I’ve got to learn that I ain’t twenty-two and on leave anymore.”
She pulled a mocking face and hopped out of bed. “Well, that’s why you’re an old man at 34, and I’m a vision of youth and vitality who is still in her ‘20s.”
I got my head patted- ow- and watched Kyndi bounce her way to the kitchen, coffee already on her mind.
“Your ‘20s ain’t going to last forever, you know!”
I heard a playful voice from the kitchen. “Says who?”
The smell of coffee greeted me as I emerged from the shower, already feeling like a new man. I took a deep breath.
That’s right. That’s why I drink. Because medicine, coffee, and showers are readily available the next day.
I snaked an arm around Kyndi, who was just pouring two cups of coffee. Kissing her on the cheek, I asked “So are you ready for a road trip?”
She smiled back. “I’m here, ain’t I?”
I looked into the living room. All of the presents were the same size, with the same wrapping paper, but they were wrapped, labeled, and ribboned. Not bad for a night of drunken debauchery, I thought.
We made our way to the hangers to stop by Kyndi’s ship so that she could pack, and-
“Oh. My. God.”
Kyndi’s jaw dropped.
I patted her on the shoulder. “You really are in the Christmas spirit, aren’t you?”
She looked back at me, eyes wide. “That wasn’t me, Matt! I have no idea why-“
Turning back to her newly-decorated ship, she just held out her hands and shook her head helplessly. She pulled out her tablet and started reviewing last night’s browsing. Then, her jaw dropped again.
“It was me. I did it. I ordered the paint job.”
She turned to me. “But I blame you! You and that holiday booze.”
Grinning, I gestured to the ship. “You realize, of course, that we are now officially obligated to fly your ship over, right?”
Kyndi rolled her eyes and groaned.
It was right out a Federation Christmas commercial: the land around my parent’s house was covered in snow, it was a beautiful night, and they had even decorated their house with a colorful lights and a big, friendly hologram wishing everyone a merry Christmas. It was only 1800 hours local time, but because it was the dead of winter, the day was already beginning to darken.
Kyndi was dressed the most conservatively I had ever seen her. Slacks, sweater, hair done up nicely, and a long winter coat all gave her a “nice girl I met at the bookstore” look.
If my parents only knew.
We walked up along a snowy pathway and rang the doorbell. There was large, bushy wreath hanging on the door. As we heard the sounds of someone approaching, I turned to Kyndi.
“You ready to do this?”
I felt her hand wrap around mine as she smiled, still facing the wreath. She giggled a little.
“For once, I think it’s better if you did the talking.”