These are glances at the inside of both the vessel and the mind of those living on it.
I hope it'll help understand our view, our way of doing things.
OSC Office main hall, Cortez.
The man walked out the bright luxurious room, stiff and looking nowhere but on the exit door, feeling the weight of the choices he made long ago. As always, none here to salute him, the other OSC Captains were giving him a cold silent glance as he passed by, quietly muttering behind him. As always, he was giving them back this disdainful and sligthly annoyed look with a faint smile on his face, a combination that had led him in some interesting situations in the past'¦
He was barely tolerated here, and glad to. He never felt at ease on these artificial paradisiacal worlds built for the sole purpose of leisure. As his Grandma use to say 'There is no shame to feel sick in a sick universe'. Not that he couldn't enjoy a beautiful landscape and a fine Gallic wine, especially if shared in good company. He was no military stiff neck. But somehow, throughout the years, he had become uneasy with the implications of such businesses. A terrible burden to bear for a Captain working for Orbital Spa and Cruise on a Luxury Liner.
Nonetheless he was doing his job, and to say the least, he was doing it well, which is probably why the company closes her eye on some less regular use of the ship, some what they called 'unnatural friendship' and the fact that he refuses to work some of the destinations. He always pride himself to be a good host, ever since he was organizing dinner party as a teenager, he likes things done correctly, an old fashion sense of what some call the 'Etiquette', a priceless commodity when dealing with VIPs.
He made his choice long ago, and yet it seems yesterday to him. He remember his early days as a free trader, he remember when he marveled at the size of his first cargo, a rusty 'Rhino' where starting cruise engines was like flipping a coin. He remembers the empowering feeling of freedom, the possibility to go everywhere, should you survive the trip. He remembers the adrenaline pumping and the cold sweat sticking on his shirt when smuggling for the first time on his Border W. Transport, back in the days.
Then he arrived on the spaceport and he saw Her waiting for him, as always, shining like a star in the golden sunset, and then he remembered why he made that choice. She was breathtaking, a real masterpiece. Not designed by engineers, she has been created by artist. The Lx Liner 'Pacificator' stood with majesty like the Queen of stars she was, and for the first time since he landed he relaxed a little and slowed his pace. Back home. It has been years since he was living inside the vessel, which was the size of a city. Capt JhC, his crew members and their family had chosen this way of life long ago, each with its personal reasons, and each sharing the same love for what is their home wherever they are.
- 'Last reports from the JhC Unpacified, Sir'
- 'Thank you, Alban'. The officer was about to turn back.
- 'Alban ?...'
- 'Yes, Sir ?'
- 'What do you think of the table?' asked the Captain, a feline smile on his face. The man in the front of him looked uneasy. There wasn't much he could hide from this cunning observer.
- 'I was wondering how much it's worth, Sir, I mean'¦That's probably a lot of money here'
- 'So, asked the Captain, how much?'
- 'Well if you ask me, I'd say about 20 Millions'
- 'Is that what you would pay for it?'
- 'Me ? Certainly not, Sir, I mean'¦with all due respect, I have no use of a 20 Mil table, but that's probably it's retail price somewhere'
- 'Exactly my point, Alban !' Said the Cap. 'Maybe this table is worth 20 Mil somewhere, but in the front of you, it isn't worth the same'. The officer knew his Captain enough to understand a lesson was at hand, so he waited and listened.
- 'What gives things value is what they are in the front of, what they interact with, and the value will always change depending who you are in the front of. The officer nodded. Never forget it when dealing with hostiles. You life and those that you love may have a lot of value to you, but it is not the same for them'.
- 'I understand, Sir'
- 'I hope so, Alban, I hope so. You may dispose'
- 'Sir!'. The officer took a last look at the table before quietly leaving the room.
JhC went through the reports of the Unpacified, and memory of his former second in command came back. He wasn't much older than Alban, at the time he was in service on the Pacificator, and just as bright. His promotion and new assignments on the JhC Unpacified has been a hard decision to take, and a hard decision to accept for the now Captain of this independent trading transport. Acting as an emissary to the partners and friends now forbidden to the Liner, he carries on the engagement taken and the old alliances, for a word is a word.
Done with the data from account department and the delivery records of the Unpacified, he set course to Manhattan and send the word to prepare the ship for the next arrival: High ranking Navy officer, their court, and some new rich. Never will they know that on other separated area of the vessel, some notorious Artifact smuggler were schmoozing Junker Congress members while sipping Pina Coladas. That was the beauty of tourism cruise and their private right enforcement policies.
In the very front of the voluminous panoramic cockpit, he felt like being in a glass made cathedral. He lets his mind wonder of unexplored territory, whispered rumors of the vast Gallic system, tales he heard of uncharted systems on Omicron'¦The JhC Pacificator moved with grace in the front of the planet, a faint system voice can be heard in the background : 'docking''¦
May Abu d'Dhur, father of the immaterial roads, be favoralble to us and those that supports us.
This will tell the early story of the 3rd Capt under JhC patronnage, Enron
Invergordon Spaceport Bar, Inverness.
It was late night at the still crowded Pub, and the conversation between the two men started to get angry, the tension palpable around them.
Through the ambient smoke, people were discreetly staring at them, wondering where this would end. This was certainly no Police base, and arguments were sometimes settled with a dead corpse floating in cold space.
- Stop being so sentimental about it for god sake'¦ You did before, and you'll do it again!
- How the hell you dare tell what I should do ! 'can't believe what I'm hearing now'¦
- You do fly a Slave Liner if I recall'¦Remind me again why those were designed?
- For your education, and giving the abyssal vacuum that fills your brain this will not be wasted time, not for slavers at all at their origin. But short of that, my ship my rules and you'll find many of my mates here who will gladly take your offer.
- Ahh, don't take it like this Enron, my friend, me Hermano ! You know just as I do that none of them are available at the moment, and we need the workers now.
- I am not your friend, and we already have a course set for the coming days. Now get your crack head out of my sigth !
- Crack head ?!
The table flung aside while the two men readied themselves for the fight when a loud voice shouted across the room :
- Thee ain't be no killing here but by my hand, and I moight just kill the two of you right now if you don't sit back quietly like the two polite boys you are !
The tenant was no man to be kidding with, and Enron has seen him putting his word into actions in past. He walked back to the bar and ordered another pint as if nothing happened. The other man, a representative of some obscure Outcast slave dealer, left the Pub muttering for himself.
The fact is he hates being bossed around, especially after a few pints'¦
He starts remembering his days of youth aboard the Pacificator'¦Amusingly enough, there he was bossed around, for Capt JhC was as though as they can get when it comes to discipline on his ship. But there as well he learned the way of those who made space their home. Leaving all earthly belongings behind them, they live a life of wanderer abroad the vessel, cruising and trading to every corner of Sirius. Or so he used to do before the call to walk his own path has come. Capt JhC did see from the beginning that behind the tough nut he was then was a good enough material to carry on and widen the web of influence that has already been set in motion'¦
May Abu d'Dhur, father of the immaterial roads, be favoralble to us and those that supports us.