The Search Begins
09 Oct 2016Yure
This is not for me! I don’t want to go around picking up scraps and trash all over random systems. I don’t want to do your job. Yure’s last word to his father haunted him. The hastily emptied out hall made them resonate louder. Another dead end. He thought with a sigh. Momentarily the ex-Federal pilot felt another pang of guilt. His knees trembled and he pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Slowly he squatted as the trembling began to crawl up his body. Yure was wondering what the hell he was doing. He wasn’t exactly sure himself. He recalled a message;
Hello Junior,
Hope all is well. <radio static caused by the unpressed radio record button> Business is good. <another pause> I miss you. Things ain’t the same without you. Did you find what you were looking for? I hope you did. Or do…<the radio static began again, it held for a few seconds long> Listen, uh Yure, I found something too. One of them <suddenly a haste took over his voice>. In a wreckage, I found it. It was just floating around. I’m gonna have it checked out. Could be worth a lot. You should come… could be something. Something big… I could use you… damn <undertone muttering>. Or don’t. I understand if your bu…. What the … Hey I got to go some ships are here…<the distinct click of a message cut>”
Yure had received the message drive. Some junker found it in a wreckage. It had been an old friend of his father and made it a point to get it to him.
Seven months had passed now, and Yure was nowhere near closer to finding out the truth. He had heard about the mysterious artefacts floating around in space. There was a lot of money transferred for them things. A lot of people who wanted them. His father only travelled in Federal Space, and it was easy enough to figure out what happened. Though now instead of hunting for vengeance, he was out trying to find the meaning of it all. Of course at first there had been anger, but after a while he’d just realized he was just angry at himself.
Instead he decided to focus his efforts on something else. Whatever that item his father had picked up had cost him his life. The frak was it doing in our system? Questions as such Yure constantly asked himself. His interest and curiosity had him terminating his military service, and soon he became a privateer. Earning creds wherever he could, he began doing odd jobs here and there. Transport, mining, junkering, couriering, smuggling, and even the odd bounty hunting had kept him afloat. All so he could fund his investigation.
He’d gotten no close. But he had closed in on two group that might have more answers. Canonn Interstellar Research Group and Pranav Antal. The last was a nut, Yure believed. But he was a nut with a lot of resources and followers. The former were a smaller band with less resources, but crazier it seemed.
Yure was motionless while squatted. His eyes rose under his brow. If anyone else had been there they would have seen the eyes of a tired man. His hand suddenly dropped and his neck craned up. On the floor a silver cone, scattered tiny pieces of papers flowed out of it. Yure’s brow furrowed. He stood and made his way to it.
Yure bent at the waist and swept the little papers into the tinfoil cone. Slowly he pulled a piece of paper. “Varati” He read out loud. He shrugged, dropped it and picked another. He went through all of them. About 40 of them said the same name. It was a vote he came to the conclusion. Yure nodded and smiled proud of his deduction. Then he paused and tilted his head as a puzzled look dawn on him. “The frak is a Varati!”