Fear and Loathing
30 Jul 2020TripleRazor
Raynor whistled softly to himself as he kicked his way over to the wall opposite the bed, where their Remloks were mounted. Turned expertly in mid-air and slotted himself neatly into the suit.Rose was still snuggled under the zero-g webbing on the bed, watching him sleepily.
They were aboard Transire Benefaciendo, his Victory-class carrier, currently orbiting on the dark side of an icy moon near a gas giant in an uninhabited system on the edge of the bubble. Despite their vast size, carriers were still mainly zero-g environments, although a few areas, such as the R&R facilities, were constructed inside small centrifuges within the vessel.
The Remlok clicked shut and the mounting clamps released. Magnetic soles kept his feet on the floor.
“Where you off to today, babe?” said Rose.
“Hmm, take the Cutter, maybe do a few more polymer runs, see what other opportunities present themselves…”
She shifted and sat up, her hair floating and making her look like a copper Medusa.
“You’re procrastinating, Tris.”
He paused and gazed at her. “Oh?”
“The other day, you were all enthusiastic about heading to the Pleiades and trying out your new toy. Well, your repurposed toy. Now you’re suddenly finding other things to do.”
He stopped and turned to face her, arms at his sides.
“Damn right I’m procrastinating,” he said with an edge to his voice. Rose took a deep breath.
“Why?”
A pause, as the words stuck in his throat.
“I’m scared,” he said flatly, “no, actually I’m bloody terrified.”
“You, Tristan Raynor? Scared?”
“Yes!”
“Wait, this is the man – my man – who will steam into a compromised nav beacon zone, filled with some of the nastiest, most heavily armed bastards around, without a second thought. Scared? Bullshit.”
“That’s in a Corvette with so much shielding most shots just bounce off it. And with a very experienced fighter pilot running Guardian hybrid fighters! Not facing off against alien monstrosities that don’t know fear, whose weapons go straight through your shields and start dissolving the hull. And that’s just the Scouts.”
Before she could reply, he took a datapad, tapped away at it and handed it to her. “Read this, and tell me you wouldn’t be scared.”
After a few moments, she looked up. “Ah, this is the Thargoid hunter lady you admire so much.”
Her right eye narrowed – the prosthetic left just stared - as she glanced back at the screen. “Hmm...she’s very bonny. Is that why…” He cut her off sharply.
“Read it, Rose. In fact read all of it. From the beginning. I know you’ve lived through some bad shit in your time, but see what she’s been through and then perhaps you will see why I admire her.”
He made his way to the door, exhaling loudly. Stopped, looked back at her startled face. It was unlike him to speak like that to anyone, let alone her.
“Rose?” he said, closing his eyes briefly.
“Yes…?”
“Love you.” The door clunked shut and he was gone.
For two days Transire Benefaciendo had hung over this desolate moon. A brown dwarf glowed sullenly nearby. Tristan had psyched himself up, distracted himself from the doubts by going out for joyrides in Shadow Scar, his Diamondback Explorer.
Rose had made her way to the hanger to watch Raynor climb aboard Memento Mori. She shivered; having diligently ploughed through the journals of Commander Frost, she understood now just how horrific the damage caused by the bugs could be, physically and mentally. And she had apologised to Tristan about her judgemental remark about Frost’s appearance. She had been more than humbled by what she had read, and her mind was still turning it all over.
They had stood at the foot of the Challenger’s boarding ramp, very close together. “I know what this ship’s name means,” she said quietly, absently adjusting the collar of his flight suit, “but that doesn’t mean you have to do anything daft.”
Tristan hugged her. “Hell no. I’ve got you to come back to. Besides, this is just a little test run. See how she performs against a Scout or two.”
They kissed, he turned and embarked. Rose left the hanger and watched from the observation window as the pad hauled upwards.
One hour later...
As soon as the door to their cabin opened, she knew something was wrong. Tristan clumped in without a word and vanished into the galley.
“Tristan?” She had been floating in the zero-g, in vest and shorts, re-reading those journals. There was a certain amount of clattering from the next room and the clink of glass.
Tristan swung back through and walked past. He still did not speak, though he reached out and gently caressed her face. The smell of whiskey on his breath. She propelled herself into the bedroom, as he clanked against the wall and shed his RemLok. Stripped off the t-shirt, balled it up and threw it away from him. Straight over to the bed, in under the g-webbing. Rose slowly drifted over.
“Hey…”
He was curled up, staring straight ahead.
“Tris?”
Shit, she thought, this is not good. She carefully joined him in the bed. Slipped her arms around his waist and cuddled up to him.
“Talk to me.” His frame shuddered and he sighed. His voice was strained.
“I’m a fraud, Rose. A failure.”
He turned in her embrace until he was facing her. “I couldn’t land a single fucking shot on those Scouts. Did more damage to myself from those gauss cannon overheating. Had to run off. From fucking Scouts!”
“And how does that make you a failure?” she said, quietly but urgently. This did not sound like the Tristan she knew.
“If I can’t even take down a Scout, I won’t last long against a bloody Interceptor, will I? I’m just a coward, Rose. Hiding behind massive shields and turreted guns. I don’t deserve any kind of combat rank! I should just go sell the Challenger...”
She touched her forehead to his, one hand on the back of his head. “Tris…” she murmured, “...hush a sec and listen to me, okay?” His eyes were squeezed shut.
“You are not a failure. You are not a coward. You had me read those journals. Fighting Thargoids is utterly unlike anything else. You cannot expect to be perfect from the start. Practise! You’re not accustomed to fixed weapons, and they’re a bitch to use. But it’s just practise. So you had to retreat. So what? You yourself said to me, ‘part of being a good combat pilot is knowing when to run the hell away.’ Don’t you dare sell Memento Mori; you do and I’ll bloody well spray the bridge of the Cutter with biowaste!”
He swallowed. Did not reply but slowly drew her close and buried his face in her hair.
Rose started awake as the carrier’s klaxons sounded, giving warning of an imminent jump. She shook herself and sat up. The bed next to her was empty, his RemLok was not on the wall. “Tristan!” she shouted. Almost immediately, his head appeared round the doorframe.
“You hollered, m’dear?” Inwardly, she relaxed; that sounded more like her man.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to where we came from. Going to kick back and rethink my approach. You spotted there were some training videos mentioned in those journals? I shall make time to study them.”
She folded her arms. “Will miracles never cease? A man actually listened to something a woman said!” He stuck his tongue out at her. “But why head back? Is this more displacement activity?”
A grin appeared on his face. “Hmm, well, actually, it’s more to do with having fifty tonnes of meta-alloys stashed in the hold. Those little runs out in the DBEx weren’t just for fun. And it’s rather nice to be able to haul it all back to the bubble without dodging stalker pirates and Thargy hyperdictions all the way!”
“Tristan Raynor, you are such a sly, conniving little bugger, you know that?”
“No-one’s perfect,” he said, shrugging, “except you of course…”
She unhooked a corner of the webbing, pushed herself over to his smiling face.
“And a silver-tongued charmer too,” she muttered, took his head in both hands, wrapped her legs around his waist and proceeded to kiss him passionately.
Around them, the lights dimmed and the room shook as Transire Benefaciendo ripped open a portal into witch-space and left the Pleiades behind.
Dedications....
I forgot to put these into the last episode.
To GoateeH (Jehnah) for his part in bringing these characters to life.
To J-Dog162 and Maggie_Oz for inspiring me to start writing again.
To Rammstein and the Reverend Horton Heat, amongst others, for musical inspiration
And if anyone (probably no-one
) was wondering, the moniker of TripleRazor's Imperial Cutter is also a reference to the Pink Floyd track of the same name, from their 1971 album Meddle...and because the Cutter's engines make a sound that Pink Floyd would have been happy to use!