The following short story was my submission to Starfleet Comm's Inspired By Images Of Eve Competition #2 contest last summer. It has been revised to a closer rendition of my original story which I had had to shorten to meet the contest guidelines. As you can see, the title of the story is the foundation of the title of my blog, and since both the story and my blog deal with Spaceships as well as the looming Incarna expansion and the future Dust 514, I figured this would be an appropriate first post for the launch of Mortal Immortals. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any critiques and comments would be greatly appreciated and welcome.
I was beginning to feel ill.
No, it wasn’t due to the information I had received earlier nor was it from the large amount of alcohol I'd consumed over the last two hours. The out-of-pod effect was rearing its ugly head. I should have headed for my ship much earlier but I was really quite enjoying myself and the alcohol was muting my inner alarms. Sitting next to me at the table was the manager of this rather dark establishment. Dra'Gon Dagger, or DeeDee to her friends, was an attractive, petite and rather fragile looking woman which was a serious misconception made by many a troublemaker. DeeDee was studying my face as I looked up from my glass of Snake Bite, the Den’s signature drink. “Ron, are you alright? You don’t look so good. Maybe you should come up to my room and lie down for awhile.” There was a hint of something other than concern in that suggestion. I swear by Eve’s Gate that I was never more tempted. It had been a LONG time. But that damned head alarm was going off again despite the alcohol. Shifting my gaze toward her, I noticed that the squirrelly little man who'd been standing behind her at the bar was gone. “Naw, I’m fine DeeDee.” Tossing down the last of my drink, “One too many of these I guess” was my half-truthful reply. “I’d better be getting back to the ship though. The new fitting should be finished and the skipper doesn’t like sitting in dock any longer than he has to.”
I couldn’t tell her that I was the skipper. Not many were aware of the fact that new drugs being researched and tested were allowing pod pilots to leave their ships. When that bit of news is broadcast, it’ll send shockwaves throughout New Eden. I'd volunteered to test the new drugs but was warned that if I spilled-the-beans, permadeath would be my reward. I had no doubt that these brainiacs who'd made it possible for me to leave my pod after all of these years could also see to it that I was never vat-born again. I kept my mouth shut. To those here in the cantina and elsewhere, I was Ron Brock, errandboy for Jon’Do Smith. The cantina, known as The Adder’s Den, was owned by one BlackIce Adder, a personal friend and corpmate, who claims he bought it because of its name. To be fair, that probably did factor-in, but its bad reputation as a hangout for social misfits of every sort was more likely the deciding factor in the purchase. It's now our primary location for the flow of out-of-log information. BlackIce himself is one sinister Ni-Kunni border runner. Friend or not, it’s best to keep one eye on him at all times and never, EVER let him get behind you, especially now that he too can leave his pod.
For that matter, most of the corporation can. Xi set it up for us. Xi Dra’Gaan, a Vherokior Mystic, is our corp leader. If there is profit to be made and it’s in any way illegal, Xi knows about it. He’s a great leader and one heluva pilot, and without a doubt, the scariest person I've ever known... and I don’t scare easily. Behind that handsome, suave smile lurks the coldest, most calculating, bloodless being in existence if you ask me. He's the source of those inner alarms. Dra'Gon Dagger is Xi Dra’Gaan’s daughter. She was born just after he'd become a pod pilot unbeknownst to him. Learning of her existence recently through his network of spies, he vowed to one day, face to face, tell her who he was. After locating her planetside a few systems out from Rens, he'd orchestrated the purchase of the Den and her hiring as its manager in order to keep an eye on her as well as to ensure her safety from the Amarrian slave traders operating in that sector. Xi truly cares about her, loves her possibly, if he is capable of that. As such, she may be his only true weakness. That was part of the intel that I had received through my own small but efficient spy network. I filed that tidbit away for now. It may come in handy someday.
I pushed my chair back and stood up. My legs felt rubbery and I was beginning to get that disconnected feeling. The drugs were wearing off. I was pushing the limits and knew it was time to get my keester back into the pod as quickly as possible. “I've enjoyed this DeeDee. Maybe next trip I'll have more time.” “I’d like that Ron.” she said as I held her hand a bit longer than a casual handshake would merit. I was playing with fire. A run-in with a CONCORD fleet would've been safer. I’d have to give this a lot more thought before returning.
I took stock of the patrons scattered around the usually busy cantina as I moved toward the exit. If not for the walking-warp, as we volunteers christened it, I would've been more alarmed that there were so few. Sitting in a corner were three men holding a hushed conversation. One of them glanced at me and quickly looked away, muttering something. The discussion came to an abrupt end as each suddenly found his drink extremely interesting. “Deal going down” I thought. Near the observation port, a man and woman were intently watching something outside the station. They too shot a quick glance at me as I made my way to the door. The only other customer, sitting at the bar, was a traditionalist Brutor judging by the cut of his clothes. He kept looking towards the open door. “Waiting for someone” was my mental assessment. My instincts were really messed up…
I walked past the bar and through the door at which point all hell broke loose. Time slowed to a crawl not unlike those first few seconds of jumping to warp. Down the corridor to my right with his back to me stood the squirrelly little man speaking on a comm. Pinned against the wall was my informant who had a mixed look of anger and fear on his face. Behind me the hiss of smallarms fire erupted in tandem with a string of curses from DeeDee. Before me, on the other side of the corridor, a man stepped from the shadows and fired a pocket-hybrid at someone to my left, spun and fired a second shot. A neat round hole appeared through the head of the ‘squirrel’ leaving my informant looking dumbfounded and about to wet himself. Half turning to attempt a dive behind the bar, I was tackled by the Brutor just as a beam from inside the cantina scorched the opposite wall of the corridor where the squirrel-ventilator had been a second earlier. He now appeared in the doorway and fired two more shots. All was quiet.
“Nice to make your acquaintance Jon” the Brutor said as he stood and offered me his hand. He knew who I was. “I’m So’Lar Wynde” he flatly stated. “I believe you know my associate.” The man in the doorway turned and removed his hood. “Hello Jon” smirked Shaddak Da’Khan. Now I was the one with the dumbfounded expression. Shad had strong ties to Blackice although being a Khanid Cyber Knight, he was more law-abiding, or at least he appeared to be. In truth, he was a bounty hunter and hired assassin for his corporation. So’Lar was presumeably of the same ilk. Their legitimate corporation – our ally by silent agreement – apparently had drug testers within their ranks too.
“No time to waste. We gotta move.” With that Shad started down the corridor towards the hangars. A glance behind showed So’Lar disappearing into the cantina. “She’s fine Jon. That gal can hold her own” he said with his characteristic smirk. As we passed the little man with the big hole in his head, I noticed that my informant was nowhere to be seen. Poor fellow was probably already on a ship headed for Empire Space. Shad motioned toward the man lying on the floor, “He and his partner back there were moles planted here by your boss to keep an eye on the Den and... it’s contents. About an hour ago, word went out on the subcomm that there was a 5,000,000,000.00 ISK bounty on your head. The info included your location and the fact that you were out-of-pod inside the station. With that kind of coin offered and the fact that you weren’t in a ship... the three low-lifes in the bar were dust-eaters and the couple were station-hopping hired guns. Shame about them. They were pretty good.” The smirk again. “Outside are a dozen or so ships, maybe more by now. Guess who they’re waiting for?”
I had a pretty good idea. I wasn’t that drunk. Nor did I miss the significance of the dust-eaters being here. That confirmed the other part of the intel that I had received. With the planets now open to industry from space, corporations and rich pod pilots have begun quiet negotiations with factions of the dust-eaters, despite being both feared and hated by the planet-huggers, in attempts to sieze control of planets and even entire systems. The three dustmercs' presence here indicated that some were already being employed for other uses too.
Outside my hangar, Shad handed me a small vial. “Drink this. It’s the latest for combating the walking-warp.” With that he took off at a jog toward his hangar just as So’Lar shot past towards his and yelled to me “give us five ticks then follow us out!” Over his shoulder Shad shouted, “Good luck Jon! Compliments of Adder!” I had a lot of questions as I scrambled into my pod and downed the new drug, but there was no time.
Behind me I could hear the shouts of station security. The station comm was blaring at me to abort my launch even as I began bringing my systems online. The drug and the jell-filled pod worked wonders and within seconds the fog was lifting from my mind. An extension of myself now, my Taranis began feeding data to me and accepting my thought commands. As I brought my weapons online the station shook under the nearly simultaneous blasts of two ships’ weapons and afterburners. I ticked off five and let loose a single burst from my newly installed Shadow Blaster and hit the microwarp a thought later, shooting through the debris of the door and leaving a badly burnt hangar behind me.
The view in front of me was utter chaos. Shad’s Crusader and So’Lar’s Wolf had exited the station with guns blazing on the unsuspecting collection of pirates, bounty hunters, and fortune seeking pilots of every profession. Unaware of what had transpired inside, they were anticipating a lone, unsuspecting pilot and an easy kill. Before most could even react, five frigates of various classes had been destroyed or disabled and a scrammed Cormorant was in serious trouble. Some of the hopeful ‘killers’ were trying their best to get to the nearest stargate while others were busy trying to figure out what in New Eden was going on.
A Drake opened fire on Shad and So'Lar. I locked my Shadow Railguns on him and fired, drawing his attention and seconds later both went to warp. I wasn’t far behind. My fast little Taranis was gone in a heartbeat. I was safe for now thanks to my friends, but I had to somehow straighten this mess out with Xi… and with DeeDee. Pilots were about to have the freedom to leave their pods and there were footprints in the dust. New Eden was on the verge of monumental changes that would reshape both its political structures and the empires themselves. This was no time to be flying alone with a large bounty on my head. I set the Taranis' autopilot for my hidden base - an abandoned wreck in deepspace that I had discovered just a few months earlier. I needed a drink.
