First Things First
14 Oct 2019ParkTyGreen
DAY 2 BACK IN THE BUBBLESo I thought about it for a while, and eventually decided to call my Krait MkII the Tiberius. Speaking of which, the ship has been treating me well. I’ll say, I’ve flown a Fer-De-Lance, and this ship flies like nothing else. The way her engines purr makes me believe this is possible. But a good ship is no use in combat if it’s not put in proper working order by its captain. In other words, I needed to get my shit together. So first priority was outfitting it into a mean killing machine. Of course, with my savings blown clear through, I had limited options. And at the time, I was out in the outer rim, near Pand, where options were even more limited. I’ve fitted the Tiberius with some run-of-the-mill class 2 multi-cannons, but if I’m going to see this job through I’m going to have to get some real firepower for this ship.
Despite these hurtles, through some shrewd negotiating with the quartermaster of Key Dock and some activities I’m not to proud of to get some extra cash, I’d gotten most of the modules refitted with powerful models. While everything was being installed, the ship being smothered in sheets of sparks from welding, I headed over to the local central market of the station and asked around if anyone was up for a position as crew on my ship. For hours I had no luck. Most of the people there were miners and low-wage workers who could probably never work off their debts. It almost wasn’t worth looking. But as I received notice that my new fighter bay installation was nearing completion, I stumbled into some bar, demoralised, and plopped down onto a stool and asked for their strongest stuff. Maybe that throbbing pain in my temple could be alleviated by blurring my senses.
Just I was about to take a swig a thunderous crash echoed through the bar and I jolted around. Another bar fight. Not an uncommon occurrence out here. I was probably the only one who gave it any notice. A tall, wide man with huge muscles (most likely on onion head) was practically whacking the other average-sized man around like a rag doll. When a table bowed and broke with another bout of fighting the room took dull notice.
The average man spit out some blood and stood back up, yelling, “I want what’s mine! I worked for you for eight years and you send me off like this? Taking everything I had?” His face grew bright red. “I-“ he could barely mouth the words before the large man struck him hard enough to send him flying into the far wall.
When I was sure the situation had dissipated, I headed over to him and helped him up.
“What’s your deal?” I asked. The man spit out a tooth and cracked his back, grimacing in intense pain as he did so.
“Name’s Sloane,” he said, holding out a trembling hand, and when I tried to shake it he was too weak to even give any force. “And I’m pretty sure you can tell what the deal was.”
We talked for a bit, and eventually he came to and explained why everything had happened. By now we were sat at the bar, and he had lines of ice-wires running along his arms and face. “My mother, you see, she passed away a year or so back. She was a bounty hunter, I guess like you, and her Eagle she used, family heirloom, she entrusted it to me.” He frowned. “But my former employers here, they’re ok it upon themselves to void her will and claim that since I was indebted to them, the Eagle was good enough payment.”
“Sounds like they had their rights to make you pay.”
“But that’s the thing. They didn’t. I never gave them permission to void the will and I would have willingly paid up with literally anything else. They did it simply to spite me.”
So we got to talking. After a while, I told him a position was open on my ship and I needed a pilot for my ship-launched fighters. Turns out, his former employment had been flying ship launched fighters to defend smugglers. I told him if he worked well and pulled his weight, I’d help pay for his ship back. Seems like that was enough. And now, I have one more crewmember than I had this morning.
Looks like the Tiberius is up and running, and ready for a good fight.