Rebuy: Pt.3 - Facsimile
19 Feb 2020Princess Nihlus
RebuyA Princess Nihlus Story
. . . . .
Part 3
-:Facsimile:-
"What the fuck have you done? Do you want me to kill you, is that it?" Bellowed the furious barrel chested Commander, his pistol wet with blood.
Princess Nihlus lit a cigarette and gripped it between crooked, bloodied teeth. His nose was broken, his ship was as good as gone and there was a gun in his face.
He started laughing, preferring the quick death afforded by pissing off his assailant even further.
"I want you to try..."
. . . . .
The lab behind Suri Gateway's infirmary was a mess of cables and custom equipment, the large Med Chamber hummed away while it reconstructed the bone and muscle tissue of its occupant, tethering the nerve endings and skin with mechanical speed and precision. Dr Tanosis jabbed an angry finger into the chest of a dumbfounded Cmdr Deano, physically pushing the stocky pilot back a step.
"He’s a murderer!” she bellowed at Deano pointing toward the Med chamber, its occupant still unconscious. "You saw what was in his Grey Box, you know what he's done!" She spat. Deano nodded, but brought a hand up in a halting gesture. He knew Princess Nihlus better than most, or at least more than the Princess would generally allow.
"Aye, lass." Deano said softly "That he is." As he finished speaking the Doctor screwed up her face angrily and went for Deano's sidearm. The struggle was a one-sided affair with Deano easily pushing her away empty handed. She slumped back against the wall, tears of frustration on her cheeks.
Deano knelt down and placed a hand on her bobbing shoulder.
"Yes. He is a murderer, and a good man." She looked at him quizzically.
"Have you ever heard of the Siege of Neto?" Dr Tanosis shook her head, Deano was un-surprised; it was an ugly footnote to a relatively unremarkable series of events.
"All you need to know is this: he stood against a tyrant when he had no chance of victory, and he spared my life when he had no reason to do so." Deano's face was sombre and meaningful which mellowed the Doctor.
A loud mechanical clunk drew the attention of them both. The jailbroken Med Chamber had finished its reconstruction having re-routed the Grey Box data and they could see Nihlus tapping away at the holographic insurance screen through the glass, accepting the Rebuy charges. The chamber opened, Nihlus swung his stiletto heeled feet over the edge like he had done so many times before and looked up with his milky gaze at the Doctor who was still fighting the urge to put a round in his skull. Nihlus picked up on her unease and turned his attention to Deano as he screwed a cigarette into his dark red lips, the flame of the match cast dancing shadows which gave frightening clarity to his gaunt features and pale complexion.
"You knew about this." He hissed and exhaled a thick plume of smoke through gritted yellow teeth, slender fingers probing his temple for a bullet hole that wasn't there.
"We suspected." Deano stepped forward keeping his hand firmly on the clasp of his holster "But it wasn't until the good Doctor's research brought her here that we started to understand the full extent of what was going on. The Grey Box. The Rebuy. All of it. We just don't know why."
Deano had positioned himself between Nihlus and Dr. Tanosis as if to shield her from him, or to shield Nihlus from her. Judging by the way Deano's hand was secured to the grip of his pistol Nihlus assumed the latter.
“Research?” asked Nihlus, his gaze penetrating the Doctor as he spoke. She went cold, unable to get the image of her mother out of her head, the image from Nihlus’ Grey box data.
Without saying a word, she turned around and ran out through the infirmary. Deano didn’t even turn to watch her go.
“You better get after her, Princess.” He said to Nihlus who nodded in agreement and went to move, discarding the cigarette on the floor.
“Oh, by the way Princess." Deano patted his pistol as he spoke. "We’re even.”
Nihlus understood, nodded over his shoulder and took off after the Doctor through the corridors of the dilapidated space station. It didn't take long to find her, Nihlus had a hunch she would be trying to find a weapon judging by Deano's body language. There she was, frantically trying to convince the ToC Quartermaster to give her a gun.
"And just what would a 'Do-No-Harmer' like yourself be wanting to do with it?" Quartermaster Deavo asked with a smirk as the Doctor became more agitated. He saw Nihlus behind her, a manicured finger pressed against his pursed red lips in a silencing gesture.
"It's gonna be a 'No', Doctor. End of line." Said the Quartermaster as he closed the mechanical shutter behind the armoured glass of his counter and shut off the lights.
As the shutter came down she saw Nihlus reflected in the glass and screamed, tumbling to the floor in terror as she spun. Down on one hand with the other raised defensively she backed into the wall. Nihlus stopped as he looked down at the Doctor and extended his hand for her to take.
"Come with me." He said, his deep voice had no hint of aggression.
"Wh-where?" She barely managed to get the word out, her heart in her throat. This is it, she thought, this is how I die; Murdered by a milky eyed androgynous psychopath.
Nihlus paused and considered his tone before saying anything in an attempt to add some emotion to his usually flat cadence. He wanted to offer her hope, to show her that he wasn't the monster she thought he was so he smiled as he spoke.
"To rescue your Mother."
His crooked smile of overlapping yellow teeth was the stuff of nightmares.
. . . . .
"What do you mean 'The Dark Marauders have her'?" Nihlus asked, his usually deep monotone voice cracking in disbelief.
"Well, technically they have her owner." Replied Deano who had been joined by Quartermaster Deavo and several other Time of Chaos pilots. They sat around a large table in the dimly lit private bar Cake had taken Nihlus to previously.
"But it's all the same to them."
Nihlus poured another drink, downed it in one then lit a cigarette. The Doctor had gone back to her lab at Deano's request to prepare a second Med Chamber, and also to give Nihlus time to think clearly. He knew that if Nihlus were to rescue Ellesandra and restore the missing Grey Box data stored on 'Consent' then it was clear he would have to kill her and detonate the ship to trigger the Rebuy protocol. This was not a conversation to be had with the Doctor present.
"So, what's the ransom?" Nihlus took a long draw on his cigarette and held it expecting the answer to be some ridiculous sum of credits.
"Two hundred tons of Onion Head." Answered Deavo causing Nihlus to spit out his cigarette as he wheezed a throaty cough. He cocked an eyebrow and glared at Deavo who beamed with his usual imp like grin, "But that's for the pilot, Cmdr Baggins something something. They've made no mention of his "cargo" or what they intend to do with it." Deavo continued, making finger quotes as he spoke.
"They expect the ransom delivery to be made in an unarmed ship." Came a voice from a dark corner of the bar.
"Got your work cut out for you, Princess."
Nihlus pondered the implications of de-fanging 'Consent' and marching into a pirates den. Death no longer concerned him, but he would only get one shot at liberating Ellesandra so it had to count.
"Send the system name to my NavComp, I'll be in the hanger, pulling teeth." Nihlus scowled. He didn't like change, especially when it concerned his ship. Change meant he'd done something wrong and had to fix it, although this could apply to Ellesandra's predicament too. One by one the servitor arms of the outfitting bay uncoupled his weapons and placed them in storage. 'Consent' was now defenseless with only her speed left to rely on if things went south. He was so deep in concentration he didn't hear the Doctor enter the flight deck behind him.
"When this is done," she said sternly, making little effort to mask her rage "you and I are having a conversation about my mother."
Nihlus paused as she spoke but didn't turn around. He could smell the grease from the freshly oiled gun she was carrying and figured all she needed was a reason. Nihlus didn't give her one and nodded slowly before going back to the outfitting screen. Dr Tasonis left, presumably to prepare the infirmary for their return and to get the thoughts of murder out of her head.
Nihlus finished up with Outfitting and closed all hatches. He strapped in and gripped the throttle with an uncharacteristically sweaty hand. He stared at his hand for several moments, apprehension was not something The Princess was accustomed to. With swift deliberate movements he launched the ship, retracted the landing gear, boosted 'Consent' out of the station at well over five hundred metres per second, and started the first of many jumps towards the heart of Federation space.
. . . . .
Despite its strategic location a mere sixty light years from the Federation home system of Nanomam, LHS 129 remained both uninhabited and unexploited with no terraformable worlds and slim pickings for miners ruling it out for Federal expansion. This was both a blessing and shit storm waiting to happen Nihlus thought as he made his ninth jump. The Fer De Lance's poor jump range was hampered even further by Nihlus' detour around Denton Patreus space which meant he was only half way there. Nihlus checked over the systems thinking that removing his weapons should have bought a little extra jump range but 'Consent' was still heavily weighed down by the Prismatic shield generator and a considerable amount of armour plating.
Jump ten, Nihlus lit another cigarette and propped it in an overflowing ashtray on the ships dash. His mind was playing out a hundred different scenarios and none of them ended well. Dark Marauders were not known to negotiate, but this was a unique case. Nihlus had no interest in the ransomed pilot, although he was curious how the pilot had ended up owning a skilled indentured servant as a personal slave. Ellesandra should be working on an agricultural world making use of her skills to pay off her debt, not slave to the whims of some Imperial who feels the need to own people.
Jump fourteen, Nihlus checked his scanners for the hundredth time, looking out for possible hostile contacts. He lit another cigarette, the last one having burnt down in the ashtray.
Jump eighteen. The uncharacteristic sweat on his palms made Nihlus stop in his tracks, dropping 'Consent' out of Supercruise and drifting lazily in the void. He stared at his hands, willing them to stop, forcing his body back under his control again.
It didn't work and the perspiration migrated to his brow, beads running down and pooling at his eyes. He wiped away the sweat with his forearm but managed to smear his makeup clean across his face.
"Fuck it." Said The Princess and made the final jump to LHS 129.
The system was empty with no contacts or local amenities. A floating junkyard of orbiting trash with the only thing of any interest being the hydrogen gas giant and its six moons. A gas giant that massive would have a powerful magnetosphere, not to mention those of the six moons helping to obscure long range scans. A perfect place for pirates, fugitives, smugglers and hostage hand-overs. Nihlus laid in a course and it wasn't long before his hunch was rewarded with a faint signal source near the third moon of the gas giant. With no other contacts on radar Nihlus opened comms to system wide broadcast.
"Dark Marauders, I am here to negotiate." He said into the console, wincing and regretting his words immediately.
Negotiation was not usually in the Dark Marauders playbook but sure enough a response came in the form of a Wing Beacon signal to lock in on. There was no accompanying message or any I.D on the signal. Just a simple invitation to drop into a completely unknowable situation, unarmed. Nihlus brought the ship about and Nav Locked the signal, creeping towards it at one tenth the speed of light. His mind went blank, any semblance of strategy flew from his thoughts as Nihlus dropped from Supercruise to normal space. Before him were a pair of heavily armed Imperial Cutters that greeted him with all Hardpoints deployed and aimed straight at 'Consent'. The two gargantuan ships were stripped of all Imperial insignia and clearly built for war, the words 'Plunder Galleon' were visible on the lead Cutter. The only signs that anyone was aboard was the tell tale weapon tracking that followed 'Consent' as Nihlus approached the small flotilla.
After a brief scan from one of the ships a hail came through the comm.
"No cargo, bit of an insult don't you think?" Came a smooth, deep voice. "So please, do tell us why we shouldn't just redecorate this system with parts of your ship."
The signal came from the second Cutter, the 'Henry Morgan' which had extended a makeshift docking collar from the cargo hatch out in front of the ship, allowing for smaller vessels to dock with her. At the other end of the docking collar was a battered looking Python class freighter with extensive plasma scoring and buckled plating across the length of her hull. Nihlus assumed it must belong to the hostage with the pilot in custody aboard the 'Henry Morgan'.
A knowing grin found its way onto Nihlus' face as he readied his reply.
"Parlay." He said, drawing the word out longer than necessary for his own amusement. He could almost sense half a dozen trigger fingers itching at the sound of that word, but a code was a code. Parlay was one of the oldest naval traditions still honoured in the void, even if not much else was anymore. A wing of four Diamondbacks appeared on the scope, the Scout class ships running cold enough not to appear on scanners unless they wanted to be seen and by then it was usually too late.
Nihlus swallowed the lump in his throat.
"You better make this good, meat." Came the bitter response as an auxiliary coupling on the collar lit up, indicating for Nihlus to dock halfway down it's length. He slid 'Consent' in line with the hatch as it extended a seal around the airlock door of the ship, docked in an upright position directly in front of the imposing Cutter's wide bridge but he couldn't see anyone aboard.
It was going to take several minutes to equalise pressure so Nihlus lit a cigarette and grabbed his makeup bag, pulling out his Blood God Red lipstick and applying a liberal coat of the crimson lacquer. He pulled up a virtual mirror from the dash to reapply his eyeshadow but stopped when he saw his reflection. With the sweat mixing with his already thick makeup the whole lot had blended into a single black streak from temple to temple, filling both eye sockets and emphasising his ghostly retinas. He shrugged with the corners of his mouth and snapped the compact shut, tossing it in the bag.
The airlock chimed it's approval as the pressure balanced between the ship and the docking collar. Nihlus nearly lost a shoe entering as there was no artificial gravity in the collar. The ramshackle cylindrical tin-can death trap was longer than it looked from the outside, Nihlus shot through it as fast as he could, ricocheting off each handrail with as much effort as zero gravity would allow and jerking to a halt just before the airlock. The door opened and Nihlus glided through, planting both feet on the ground as the ship's gravity took hold.
As the inner door swung open Nihlus took stock of the figure standing before him. Tall and broad in stature with silver grey hair and beard that belied his youthful complexion and piercing blue eyes. He locked stares with the Princess, the cold dead eyes of a killer meeting Nihlus' milky white gaze without a hint of apprehension, almost static. It took several moments before he realised he was trying to stare down a hologram. Cursing his own stupidity Nihlus walked through it and into the main hold of the ship. The illuminated corridors guiding him to the owner of this behemoth.
As he turned a corner through an open bulkhead door Nihlus almost didn't believe what he was seeing. The room was filled with wooden bookcases stuffed floor to ceiling with manuscripts and tomes of every size, wall to wall. There must have been over a thousand books in the room, at its centre was a weathered looking wooden writing table. The dark varnish was worn in places but this added to its authenticity. This was real wood, a sign of decadence to be sure but also a sign that the owner was a person of means and not to be taken lightly. The figure from the hologram was seated at the desk writing a ship's log with paper and pen, seeming to barely notice Nihlus enter.
Nihlus coughed and the man at the desk motioned to the chair opposite him without looking up from his writing. Nihlus sat.
"Not a lot of cargo space in a Fer De Lance." Said the man after several agonising moments, finishing his log entry with a flourished signature.
His tone was equal parts hearty joke and outright threat.
"So one would conclude you're not here with the ransom." he finished and settled an easy stare at Nihlus.
"A fair assessment." Nihlus stated.
"Why are you here, Princess?"
Nihlus cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes we are well aware of you, Princess, and the only reason we haven't crossed paths until now is that you are simply beneath our notice. You have changed this, why?"
Nihlus tensed, his instincts told him to go for his sidearm but he held back. The tension in the room grew until eventually the stern grey haired Commander burst out in raucous laughter, slapping the table with each hearty "Haw". It took several heaving breaths to regain his composure before he stood and thrust a hand at Nihlus.
"Captain Hairy Polo, at your service. Don't ask about the name and I won't ask about…" Polo waved his hand in Nihlus' general direction. "Well, any of it."
"None taken." Smirked Nihlus as he clasped wrists with the well built Captain. Standing as tall as Nihlus in his heels, Captain Polo was easily twice as broad and built like a vending machine.
Taking his seat again Captain Polo opened a large ledger on his desk to reveal a bank of switches and activated several at once with several dexterous flicks of his fingers. The wall behind Nihlus turned transparent revealing a large crew lounge area more in keeping with the standard Imperial ship design. Several armed crewmen were keeping watch over a disheveled looking man, clearly the abductee. Three slave girls sat separately around a table and Nihlus spotted Ellesandra straight away. Her face, once so clearly etched in his mind now looked so different. Not just the pupil-less eyes that she now shared with Nihlus but her overall posture, as if the very structure of her had been altered somehow. Nihlus began to sweat.
"So, not Baggins." Said Polo, following Nihlus' line of sight.
"Not Baggins."
"Well we're all reasonable people here and to be completely frank, Princess, rogue Imperial Slaves in Federation space are more trouble than that silly cunt." Said Polo pointing at their hostage.
"But you'll have to offer something in trade, and something pretty valuable at that! Them's the rules."
"I'm only here for one." Said Nihlus calmly as he could, discreetly wiping the sweat from his palms.
"I'm not blind, Princess." Polo scoffed.
"I know which one you mean. What're ye offering?" He flipped a couple more switches in the ledger and the wall went opaque once more.
Nihlus glanced around at the wealth of information that must be stored in each book, clearly the Captain placed a higher value on knowledge than anything else. He stood and planted his fingers on the writing desk, leaning in for dramatic effect and staring down on Captain Polo.
"Information." Said Nihlus and leaned in closer. "What if I told you a secret so devastating it could literally unravel the very foundations of everything you think you know."
Captain Polo leaned back in his chair with a look of serious consideration, his features moving through a variety of micro expressions from incredulity to curiosity as he processed the cryptic response. Finally he looked back to Nihlus, pressing the comms switch on his desk without breaking eye contact.
"Lori, be a doll and bring in the one with the eyes."
. . . . .
A firm hand hoisted Ellesandra to her feet. She didn't resist, having become accustomed to being moved around like furniture the Marauder briskly guided her out of the room that held the rest of the hostages and through a short corridor to the Captain's office. She instinctively wanted to recoil from Nihlus as soon as she laid eyes on him but her conditioning prevented her from moving, rooting her to the spot.
Nihlus walked right up to her and handed her a hastily written note, she showed no signs of recognition as she took it from him.
"Enter this code into the systems panel when you get aboard my ship, this will deactivate the security alarms." He lied.
Ellesandra looked at the note, yet another master buying her off and telling her what to do and where to go.
"I will join you shortly." Said the twisted wiry man before her, she didn't look up at his face just nodded her accord before being shuffled away once more by another one of the Dark Marauders.
Down, through, and out of the cargo bay into the weightlessness of the docking collar she and her escort found themselves at the airlock of Nihlus' ship. She hung back obediently as the Marauder opened the hatch.
"In." Was the simple command and Ellesandra obeyed as she was supposed to, as she always will. She entered the airlock and the hatch closed behind her, she heard the Marauder lock the door.
"Someone else's problem now, cargo." The Marauder sneered and bounded off through the zero gravity of the collar. The inner airlock door opened and Ellesandra found herself drifting through the ship in a slumped haze, standing over the systems panel of 'Consent' before she even realised. She looked up through the cockpit and could see into the flight deck of the 'Henry Morgan'. Nihlus was staring right at her through the glass with Polo sitting dead centre of the bridge in his lavish Captain's chair. She looked down at the keypad and the scrap of paper in her hand then back to Nihlus. He nodded to her and she entered the code just like her Imperial conditioning told her to.
Nothing happened.
She looked back over at the other ship to see Nihlus speaking up close with Captain Polo but couldn't make out what was being said. Captain Polo's eyes widened suddenly as if in shock and he bolted out of his chair, grabbing Nihlus and tossing him aside. He was up against the glass and shouting something at Ellesandra, a sudden jolt rocked the ship and knocked her off her feet as 'Consent' drifted free from the docking collar with explosive force. Getting her bearings she looked back at the 'Henry Morgan' to see Polo savagely beating down on Nihlus with the grip of his pistol. Nihlus managed to plant a foot on Polo's chest and force him off, bringing his bloodied body to its feet by sheer will alone.
Nihlus lit a cigarette and Polo pointed the pistol right in his broken face.
The pair started talking again and Nihlus seemed to laugh. Ellesandra relaxed slightly.
A bright flash that was immediately muted by a thick red layer of viscera spattering across the broad glass canopy signaled the sudden end of the exchange and Ellesandra's heart stopped.
She was alone, she had this ship, but she didn't even know how to want for freedom anymore. A sad lethargy came over her as she awaited instructions. A beeping from the systems panel drew her attention, expecting a hail she eagerly approached the console and activated the holographic screen.
"Self Destruct: 3 Seconds"
Her mouth opened but she never got a chance to scream.
. . . . .