Beer
19 Oct 2019Zebulon
Something you should never do is to act on an impulse when bored. Well, I did. I went for a view to see what my old pal was up to, couldn't find him on the net so went to find him myself. One thing led to another and after a couple of light shit shifting jobs to get rid of some toxic fertilizer that's been killing all the food, I find myself in the TORO system. Now I can fly "under the radar" most of the time and no-one seems to mind my Federalist standing (which goes with my home base and not a lot of choice there is in that), keeping everyone on an even keel, other than the occasional brush with Imperialists. Polite as they are, they can be a funny lot. Treat women like precious objects instead of equals and get all offended if you make jokes about their leaders. Hell! That's all we Fed's ever do! Hey, that's another story for another day. Anyway, like I was saying, a little station by the name of Farris Dock run by a "squadron" of "Knights" - good guys. A bit weird but they've always looked out for me so I got no complaints. I'd just delivered a bunch of gold to them under the noses of some crafty pirates, avoiding getting my head blown off in the process. I get there and the bar is closed. A pressure valve incident. This has me now sitting in a cafe. I don't mind coffee, not one bit, but I was feeling bored and mildly pissed off when one of those combat type women walks over and plants her ass at my table. The figure is good, the suit worn but expensive with some wear and tear from obvious combat. A place for everything and everything in its place if you catch my drift. No surprises there. "Bars closed there sailor.." I nodded, sipped my coffee. "You want one?" She declined. "Saw you come in on that old Viper of yours. She's looking a bit rough". Without hesitation I said "I like rough...", realised what I'd said and nearly choked on my next sip of coffee. She just smiled, leaned forward and said in a low voice. "I have a message and some data I'd like you to deliver. Its not far and there's a consignment of beer in it for you. Seven units to be exact." I eyed her with suspicion. "This'll get me killed won't it?"
"I'd deliver it myself but its, well...." she paused. "it's a little delicate. Some private information that could see a little change in your prospects and for the better." She gave me that look. I thought, "Aw hell, it's been months anyway and its not like she'd be around when you got back, but still, a promise? Hmm.....me and my second brain!" So we sat for a bit and I asked all the usual questions and caveats. It seemed straightforward enough, even if it was a little unorthodox. Then there was the beer. She did decline to come with me. Being seen together at the destination might arouse some suspicion, whereas if I went in, a complete stranger, no questions asked and all that, then the delivery would be simple enough. So I get the codes set and secure the data and head out for HIP 223 and some backwater depot on a rock.
The jump was fine. Dropped out for a scoop at the sun. Did an exploratory scan as I hadn't been out this far before. Pranav Antal runs the show here apparently, the great scary Pirate King who eats children, allegedly. So far so....."Oh what the heck now?" My message system bleeps at me. It's her. "Hey, you'd better be quick with that message to Proges Depot, some folks that don't want that info delivered are heading your way..." Well how in the hell did they know it was me?! "They scoped you leaving and I just found a tracker on me..." Oh freekin' great.... so now I have to make a run for it. Thinking to myself..."what the hell is in this message....?" So, off I chop only to be interdicted seconds later.
I wouldn't really have called it a fight. I'm no expert but this guy was all over the place. Sidewinders a quick little suckers but you've got to know how to handle them. Couple of passes and his shields were down, so a target of his drives and rather than blow him up, I ducked out and left him floating, with another two up on my scope clearly headed my way. Scooted round the darkside of the planet and parked my arse on the deck. My pursuers flew right by. Old tricks are sometimes the best tricks. It was a short Scarab ride and while these clowns were searching the docking bays I got in by the back door. I went to the bar where I was instructed to go and passed over the data to another combat type who smiled and said "Wait here..." Well no shit! I want my freekin' beer, and yes, it could've got me killed. As she leaves a couple of dudes in long black coats and dark glasses come into the bar. Probably local security from what I can figure out. The gang running the joint here are a little on the feudal side for my liking and these two looked like they meant business. I found my hand slipping down to the pistol in my jacket as they made their way towards me, at which point several things happened.
The bar went quiet. I felt someone standing behind me. I saw the expression on the goons faces change to one of surprise, and a quiet but powerful female voice said, "That will be all gentlemen. My husband will no longer be needing your services. Should you wish to stay in employment I suggest you leave." They nodded and muttered something like "yes ma'am..." and left as quickly as they had appeared. I turned around and was faced with a picture of utter elegance. Even in the leather flight suit with the long cape and gloves, this was no ordinary person. I went to say something. She put her finger to my lips. "Thank you Zebulon. My name is Anna Korevenka, and I am now the sole owner of this station. The information you brought was DNA based proof that my husband has been, shall we say, less than appropriately faithful and had fallen into some careless habits of late, distributing information that my benefactor was not at all too pleased with." I nodded like an idiot. "Your beer is being delivered to your ship as we speak." "..but I hid my...." Before I could finish she said, "We know, and believe me its fine and taken care of." and with a swish of the cape, tip of the cap and a gloved hand shake she was gone. The leather clad Valkyrie that had taken the message moved up, pushed me to the bar and got the bar tender to supply me with a much needed beer. Everyone went back to talking and drinking and not one eye was cast in our direction. "Oh, by the way, my sister sent you this. It's her apartment access code, just in case you're passing. I think mum quite likes you too....." And then she left.
So here I am, sitting on several kegs worth of good beer and debating my next move......Back to Farris Dock I think!