Logbook entry

The Qwent Incident

26 Mar 2018Sku-77-s
We had spent most of the day at the Belugas mid-deck bar. Easier company that those high rollers upstairs, less crowded, less... cheery.

On our way to die, not something you do everyday. Hell thats usually something that only happens once. We should have been excited, damn near overjoyed ya know?

Well we weren't ya know I was pissed, and Ziro hadn't said anything since we pieced it together: They knew what we wanted and had used it as a carrot, we never saw the stick coming,

Still sitting drinking scotch on a top-class cruise liner, not a bad pregame for an execution. The ice clinked, drifting slowly upwards. The bar itself was magnetic and zero g glasses metal bottomed with some fancy straw and top. Kept his scotch in and ice tumbling about. Kinda like our stomach in fact.

A quick walk and some cool water from the restroom.

The water was great. The reflection in the mirror not so much, maybe the bay window would be a little better.

CMNDR SKU-77-S we chuckled a little inside.
Today the person, me, us, dies. Someone in Herrington City has a bullet with that name, our name, on it today.

Today the we die.

We had a good run Ziro and me. Been together for so long, sometimes the me, we, it, and I of it all get mixed up.

Think of it most of us never made it out of that place. Ever seen someone try go deaf? Their dedicated, use pencils, fingers whatever they can. There's that voice that inside your head now and then? Well A.I. implants never shut up... ever.

Guess they're considered "ancient" now. At least that's what they want you to think. Let me tell you what an ancient A.I. is: a smart-a. Thinks it knows everything and damn near does.

It was an old trick used to keep adventurers sane on solo journeys in the black. Increased overall function and a talkative partner that took no oxygen, or other resources. Always functioning even if the pilot wasn't and sadly left most of them not. Computers and Humans can work together but combine them and you get all kinds of issues.

Now? Now their used to track sleeper agents, help perform those cold calculations, keep track of a persons ticks you know those little twitches we usually miss. A eyebrow dip, or eyes scamper away for a second. Keep communication and tracking options open like a logistics center in your dome.

Oh if you hadn't guessed it, we were one. Right up until a half hour ago. That's when the sleeper part got flipped and we were sent to The Deathship with a one way ticket to Deadville.

She was actually named The Sweet-Marie and wasn't a bad ship, for a beluga if we were honest. Also if we were honest we'd never been to Herrington, might be a decent place. But we're an ex-sleeper agent so honesty is kind of a shortfall. Deathship and Deadville it was.

We had been working my way up the ladder with Sirius Corp. certain parties thought they might be involved with some dirty work, the kind that wakes you up hearing screams in the dead of space. Not unusual for someone of our skills and history, if the backer was a little too familiar.

Did some cold stuff, but lately it had been sketchy. Work against a specific other corporation. Shady stuff too, laid waste to a settlements comm's relay and skimmer grid. Didn't ask why, but leaving people gagged and helpless is never good.

Now, now I was going to meet up with Marco Qwent, he seemed to be a hotspot of info lately. Might have what I needed to get to Palin, get back to the goals we had set. Goals that were going to get us out of this mess.

At least thats what they had said. If they thought we hadn't seen the big Duamta Jet Corp emblem at those settlements they were crazy, or bold. My money was on both and Ziro was doubling down on my bet.

They had handed me a invitation to meet my maker with a smile and pat on the back for a job well done.

We put our hand on the window and I thought for a second.

-""Any input what-so-ever is welcome""-

{{Sir. That polycarbonate is only within the 3mm range in thickness.}}

-"Ziro I understand your obsession with facts and measurements but please make some sense""-

{This Ships Core-Lock Airlock design is rated to close within a .03 second response time.}

""Repeat command: make some damn sense? Like now maybe?""

{{Sir we have been set up and I have calculated the odds of us arriving unharmed at 0%, the odds of us arriving alive are only at 3% We need to alter this equation in a drastic fashion in order to navigate to survival}}

Hated to admit how correct and believable that sounded to. Ziro had run simulations on us even escaping via our personal ship The Corbeau to be suicidal. A little more scotch and we might have a deal no matter what it was.

-""Details""-

{{This cabin is empty apart from us and the bartender, who is keeping his left arm raised by nearly more than 5 degrees. This means the likely hood of him having a blade or blunt weapon to finish us before we ever reach Herrington.}}

Looking back toward the bar with a tilt of my glass he did seem a bit off. Maybe it was time to get serious and stop messing around waiting for this thing to kick off.

- ""Ziro advise""-

{{Well Sir, you did happen to bring that relic with you against my advice. Maybe we use it?}}

- ""Ziro please refer to my lemonsqueezer as a classic from now on. There is nothing antique about it.""-

{{Sir I believe you are incorrect in your definition of a classic}}

Ok so maybe blasting our mutual butt into space wasn't going to be the best idea. But we were gamed, and it was time to switch it up with a little dash of desperate and a hand loaded .54 through space.

"Hey man, can I get another, no rocks this time?" I called out to the bartender. We just needed him closer, no worry about witnesses to this particular get-away just some cushion between me and the impact.

We raised the glass, never taking our eyes off the bay window. Wasn't a bad view, Sirius the dog star... kinda fitting actually.

-""And Ziro whats the plan when were out there?""-

{I'm calculating odds that the shock of sudden decompression does not kill you, but your reserve o2 in this suit should provide me with the time to remote pilot Solia Vagari to this location.}

-""I had almost forgotten how considerate you are Ziro.""-

{Just treat it like that time we jumped in at the Beta Quadrant Sir, just a little nap and all's well. And Sir? Its action time.}

It was about to go sideways, it really was but I can tell you this that poor sod was going to have no idea what to think when he had cold steel against his forehead. Personal Firearms had been outlawed for gods know how long. Personal Kinetic Projectile Weapons on board any space fairing vessel was a no no. But when you could kill a few hundred thousand with a shattered biome it made sense. I kept it for thrills, Ziro considered it a nuclear policy. Time to go nuclear then.

It was over to fast, trained reflexes matched with computer calculated movements. The look on his face? Well we immortalized it when we emptied the revolver into the bay window. We had my Emergency Suit on under my clothes, the decompression hurt but I was alive. Thanks to Ziro for calculating every outcome we always wore it.

Always.

The bartender wannabe assassin, guess he hadn't shown as much foresight. He was going to be preserved right up until the end of time hopefully, cause that face really was priceless.

I smiled as I heard Ziro chittering away to our ship. Sending F.T.L. directives and directions. It wasn't over but we had a decent footing, one where we weren't the lamb to the slaughter. Still running wasn't an option, we still needed to find a way to "die" with a little grace. And leave the evidence behind at least enough to make it believable.

Still maybe a just a little nap wouldn't hurt we thought as I drifted into blackness.
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