The Ice Mines of Chana, Part 1
26 Aug 2016TheDarkLord
The Ice Mines of Chana, Part 1Kooi Hub, Chana. Faulcon deLacey Anaconda “TDL Agamemnon”.
June 3302.
I landed TDL Agamemnon and visited the dockside offices of the various representatives who were awaiting my haulage shipments and datagrams. Business was concluded quickly, and my credits and Imperial rank swelled. The rest of my cargo, I sold for a modest profit. The dock typically busy for Coriolis stations within fifty light-seconds of the witchspace jump exit.
I headed to a downtown bar to grab some food and a drink. I chose an industrial-looking place that had a gorgeous smell of grilling meat. Inside, it had a mix of hard stone, synthslate, and brazed ironworks. A long bar looked to be made of two thirds of a tree trunk. Real wood too – expensive in a starport. The music was loud, acid jazz and techno swing. Garish neon signs adorned the walls, but the place itself was dim, lit with antique filament bulbs running at a nominal voltage. I asked the barmaid for a dark beer and a light single malt whisky, and read through the menu.
“You new round here?” she asked.
“Mmm hmm. Just dropping some stuff off. I’ll be heading out in the morning.”
“Pilot, eh?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Yeah. You look like you’re from out of town,” she said, looking me up and down.
I chose from the menu and pre-auth’d a tab. I picked up my glasses of liquor and headed to a smallish table away from the hubbub of the busier areas of the bar. I sat with my datapad, reading up on local and galactic news.
I wasn’t really concentrating. I kept glancing up at the patrons of the bar, comparing my appearance with that of others. It was difficult to see what the barmaid had meant by “looking like I was from out of town.” I suppose I was a little leaner, my clothes fit me a little better, but it was all by degrees. Not like I had rocked up at a mining outpost in a kilt.
My food arrived, and I put the conversation out of my head. There were ructions in Ch’iang Fei, with Arissa Lavigny-Duval fighting hard to take the system from the clutches of the Federation Shadow President Felicia Winters. I noted that these skirmishes had been ongoing for several weeks now as I reviewed the information coming out of ALD leadership. I engaged in correspondence with other officers from the 9th Legion. I needed to know whether to head back to Malaikudi, to break out my Fer de Lance and go join the battle.
As I ate, I mulled over the galactic situation. The meat was excellent, and perfectly cooked to my liking. Soon, the flavours asserted themselves on my palate, and I stopped thinking about work. I was just savouring the food, letting my eyes wander, watching the comings and goings of other punters.
I saw the woman walk in. Blonde hair cut into a sharp bob, fitted blouse and light slacks accentuating her moderate curves. She was short, probably only 165cm, with at least 10-12cm of that in heels. I guessed she was a regular, as the barmaid greeted her and had what looked like a glass of white wine ready by the time she got to the bar. They conversed briefly, and it looked to me as if the woman was looking for somebody. As she cast her eyes around the bar, I decided I didn’t want to be seen watching the watchers. I picked up my datapad and went back to my reading.
She was beautiful though. I had certainly clocked that.
Several minutes passed, before I heard heels click-clacking towards me on the synthslate floor. I looked up from my datapad, to see the blonde woman standing on the other side of my table.
“Err… Hi. Can I talk to you?” She said. She seemed very nervous.
“Sure, take a seat.” I noticed her glass was nearly empty. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Um… Okay,” she said as she drew out the opposite chair, and stiffly sat. I saw the barmaid looking over at us, I nodded in her direction.
“How can I help?”
“I hear you’ve got a big ship and you know mining,” she began. The barmaid deposited full glasses on the table, and I started to get the impression that this was going to be a long evening.
“It’s been said,” I replied.
“I need a hundred and twelve tonnes of Methanol Monohydrate by 10PM local time on Friday. I can pay you two million credits.” The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, as if the simple act of telling me took a weight off her shoulders.
“Can’t you just buy it?” I ask.
“That’s what I thought I was doing,” she shoots back. Then, more calmly, “Open market demand is crazy, so you can’t source it. It has to be mined.”
“My ship isn’t outfitted for mining at the minute. I’d need to find all the components, reconfigure it, then do the mining run. Probably two runs, realistically. Two days’ work, all in. Normally I cover off my expenses with the side minerals, but Monohydrate is Ice Rings, and the side products aren’t worth shit. Two mill isn’t enough.” It was Tuesday, so there was enough time, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to take a mining mission right now.
We back-and-forthed a bit, eventually settling on payment of 2.4m credits. An extra four hundred thousand was nice, but really, I wanted more than that. I could do better running long range deliveries out of any of the fringe systems, but I quite fancied a trip to the ice rings. And this woman sitting opposite me? Well, there was no “quite” about my feelings towards her. She was beautiful. Frankly, I wanted to continue the negotiations just so I could carry on watching her expressive face pulling itself into a collection of arrangements in response to her emotions.
The deal was concluded, but she did not get up to leave. My plate was cleared away, and I asked for the cheeseboard in lieu of dessert, as well as another round of drinks. We chatted about lots of things, our different lives, living in Chana vs being a nomad. Mining, combat, exploration, the Empire. The cheese came. We shared the platter, and several more drinks after that.
Early evening had definitely become late, time for me to head back to my ship. Tomorrow was now going to be busy. I realised I had no idea what this woman’s name was.
“Right… er…” I started.
“Claudia,” she smiled. “Yeah, we didn’t really get around to names, did we?”
“I’m Tony,” I replied. “Claudia, it’s probably time for me to head back to my ship. For some reason, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
She bit her lip, blushing slightly. There was a pause.
“Can I see it?” She asked. “Will you show it to me?”
“My ship? Sure.”
She rose quickly, then realised that the wine had made her less steady than she had bargained for. I settled the tab – the size of the number it showed made me think of the inbound hangover. I left the bar with Claudia, and as we walked down the boulevard, she linked her arm through mine. It felt nice. I scolded myself for feeling like a teenager.
We reached docking bay 33, where TDL Agamemnon sat. Even at rest, in the dim lighting of the dock at night, the ship exuded power and menace. I glanced across at Claudia, who looked transfixed.
“I’ve never seen one this close before,” she said. “It’s enormous. Do you fly it by yourself?”
“Yeah, usually. It has space for crew, but I’ve automated most of the functionality, and I have a pretty usable workflow when I’m piloting. Do you want to have a look inside?”
I’m not sure what I was thinking, inviting this strange beautiful woman aboard my ship. Actually, that wasn’t strictly true. I was just thinking of spending more time with her. She didn’t answer in words, but instead held my arm tighter and tried to drag me aboard my own vessel.
I closed the Officers’ Deck boarding hatch as soon as we were both inside. Still in the entrance hallway, Claudia wrapped her arms around my neck and drew me into a long kiss. I realised that it had been a long time for me. She broke the kiss, and whispered in my ear.
“You can show me the rest of the ship tomorrow. For now, a bedroom will do.”