Echoes, Part 1
30 May 2017User4296
Stross Depot, Camazotz SystemAlliance Space
April 3302
There are only so many ways to find what you're looking for in space, even with the relative small size of the human bubble. This is doubly true with an organization that doesn't want to be found, but there are ways to increase your chances.
It was in that spirit I once again found myself face to face with Stanton, a data broker I had met during a job toward the end of 3301. We were sitting in his small office just off the hangar level, once again sharing a few drinks out of another bottle of scotch. We had become fast friends, and I had done several favors for the people of the station, and so Stross Depot had become a sort of “home away from home” while I was in Alliance space.
What seemed like the entire station had been happy to see me upon my arrival a few days earlier, and had wasted no time throwing me a sort of "welcome back" party. Of course, I was quick to ask if they needed any help with anything, which had led to a few more small jobs that I had taken at a discount - mostly because I liked the people here.
I had just finished one such job when I finally found time to pull Stanton aside and tell him about my little problem. That was what brought us into his office and away from prying ears.
"Can't say that I have," he replied when I asked him if he had ever heard of the Apex Unlimited corporation. "You say they're probably an Empire corp?"
"That's what I would assume," I said, taking another sip of the scotch. This stuff was actually good, as opposed to most of the other garbage I'd been drinking recently. "That seemed to be where they were operating, anyway."
Stanton leaned back in his chair and steeped his fingers. "And so you're trying to track them down to save a girl?"
"That's the idea."
"You've got guts, son. First an Alliance data package, and now you've attracted the attention of an evil Megacorp." He paused as a roguish grin crossed his face, "Don't you have any normal hobbies?"
"I have a dog now. That's normal, isn't it?" I shrugged.
He laughed and shook his head, "No, something normal, like... I don't know, gardening. Hell, you ever think about taking up Reaping? Probably better money in it than freelancing."
"I've taken my fair share of bounties, Stanton," I said, taking another sip of the scotch. "Not really my bag. That kind of lifestyle seems awful lonely, to be honest. Besides, who actually calls it that?"
"I knew a few who do.” He paused and then shrugged. "Well, I can put out some feelers, but I'm not sure what we'll find..."
"That's all I can ever ask," I said, before draining the rest of my glass. I regarded him for a moment, then spoke again. "Whatever happened to that pilot?"
"The guy who got stranded here?" he asked, before laughing. "Sure enough, his buddies arrived three weeks later to pick him up, but it turns out he liked our hospitality enough to where he requested this trade run again! And they gave it to him!"
I chuckled. "That so?"
Stanton drained his own glass and nodded. "Yeah, he's a hell of a pilot, turns out, when his ship isn't failing on him when he tries to break gravity. In fact, you just missed him."
"No kidding?" I asked, mostly rhetorically.
Stanton answered anyway. "Yeah, he- " he was cut off by a blinking light on one of the control consoles that sat around the perimeter of the room. He got up and pressed it. "Yeah, boss?"
The station commander's voice filled the room. "Hey, sorry to bother you, Stanton. Is John there? Could you send him topside?"
He looked at me. I shrugged.
"Is being an errand boy a normal enough hobby?" I asked.
***
The door to the depot's command center slid open, revealing the banks of large monitors that ran the length of the room's walls, showing the departure and arrival information of most of the ships that had come and gone that day. Of course, given how remote Stross Depot was, there weren't many. About half of these workstations were occupied, and only about half of the people manning those stations were even remotely paying attention what was happening, instead choosing to talk to each other or fiddle on their PDAs. A glance to my right revealed something not terribly surprising - a younger man sat there, perhaps mid-20's, piles of snacks both eaten and untouched littered his desk. He was fully engrossed in something on his PDA. I smirked. Turnover is low, at least.
In the center of the room sat a raised platform, and atop this was a desk occupied by a woman - advanced middle age, probably late fifties - with her back to me. She appeared to be scanning the monitors for anything new or out of place, but she glanced over her shoulder as I entered.
She stood and approached, offering an easy smile and extending her hand. "Mr. Mathurin, sorry I didn't get to attend your party. How have you been?"
I shook her hand and returned the smile, though I shrugged as I did so. "Life of a spacer, I guess. Could be better, could be worse."
She nodded, a knowing gleam in her eye. "I know. My husband and I used to do that sort of thing, until..." she cast a glance at the young man in the corner. "Well, you know. Life changes," she paused, holding her gaze on the young man for a moment too long. "Clean up a little, won't you?" she snapped. The young man waved lazily, drawing snickers from a few of the room's other occupants.
She shook her head and turned back toward me. "Hopeless. Anyway, I was hoping you could do us a favor," she said, moving back to her desk and pressing a few of the buttons on the panel embedded within it. One of the wall monitors changed, showing a planet. "The last supply drop arrived right on time, but it had a bit of a problem. Too much of one supply and not enough of another - I was hoping you could take the things we don't need back and switch them out for things we do."
I shrugged. "Sounds easy enough. They'll be expecting me?"
She nodded. "They will. Just show up with the cargo and they'll give you what you need to bring back."
"I'll take care of it."
***
The switch had gone easily enough - a quick 50 light year trip and some profuse apologies from the representative later, and I found myself heading back, my hold filled with new cargo. This time around, though, I had reinstalled an Advanced Discovery Scanner on the Pyrrha, and lingered for a moment in each system on the way back - at least long enough to "ping" the system and do my part to update Universal Cartographics' logs.
My gaze was following the scanner bar as it filled for the third or fourth time when the ship suddenly shook.
"Interdiction tether established," Verity announced. Scarcely had the familiar blue circle taken its spot on the screen when the ship shook again, and the circle disappeared.
"Frame Shift Drive failure," she said next.
I cursed. Somebody needed to have a word with someone about the interdiction avoidance software.
The space outside the cockpit window flipped around as the Pyrrha was torn from Frame Shift. A few moments later the ship settled, allowing the system's star to dominate nearly half of the view. I idly deployed the ship's hardpoints while I waited for the inevitable command from the other ship - no doubt they would demand a portion of the small amount of cargo I was carrying.
The demand never came, instead replaced by a barrage of beam lasers colliding with the back half of the Pyrrha's shields. I had barely managed to slam the throttle forward to try an accelerate away when Verity's voice broke the silence in the cockpit.
"Shields offline."
I felt more so than heard the explosion that happened next, and the weight of the ship lurched forward as it suddenly slowed to a stop. I looked down at the damage display, trying to figure out what happened - the main drive was damaged and overheating, forcing an emergency shutdown. The auto-repair systems had already kicked in, stripping parts of the other systems to try and patch the disabled one. A status bar snaked its way across the monitor, showing the progress.
The other ship looped into view - an Imperial Courier turned to stand nose to nose with the Pyrrha, the nearby star reflecting off the other ships' canopy. It slowed and came to a stop only a few meters away.
My communication panel beeped next. I keyed the answer button.
"Hey, kid. You still alive?"