Alaric sighed wearily and ran is hands thru his hair. The normally close cropped style he had was now passed his shoulders. Apparently they do not cut your hair while you’re in a coma.
He had jerked awake three days ago, hooked up to all sorts of monitors and tubes. He felt weak and hungry and had no clue how he had gotten there. He learned later, after the pretty nurse came in to check his IV that he was one of their oldest patients. His doctor told him how he had been found adrift on the edge of Sigma-19 in personnel escape pod by a Kusari trader on his way to Honshu. According to the pods computer he had been adrift for over 2 months. The traders had dropped him off on the planet Honshu when they delivered their cargo.
The hospital staff had removed him from the pod, but the drugs the pod had used to keep him alive left him in a coma. It had been known to happen in cases such as his, so they hooked him up to monitors and waited. Well it had taken 4 years. 4 long years.
They had no idea who he was, so had notified no one. The pod had taken a bit of damage and the computers did not contain the ship registration files they normally carry nor had the rescue beacon been active. It was just pure dumb luck that the trader even saw his pod floating about.
Alaric shook his head and though back to what had put him in that pod.
After Sam Nichols had been murdered, Alaric had gone a bit rogue. He took his gunboat, Watcher, and had tracked down the folks who had done it. It took him a few weeks but he found the Outcast mercenaries who had been hired to do the deed. He had caught up with them in Sigma-19. The battle was fierce, and Watcher had sustained several direct hits. The last bomber had exploded when over the cheering of his crew, Watcher’s threat detector had sounded. The battle had taken too long and here were the reinforcements.
Alaric had known that they were not going to escape. Watcher’s shields were down to 20 percent, his batteries were empty and he had 5 nanobots left. The swarm of heavy fighters and bombers came rushing in and Alaric world became swirling beams of coherent light, balls of plasma, and the screeching of his missile threat indicator. He remembered taking out 2 of the heavy fighters, when a bomber managed to slam a torpedo into his side. After that he was waking up in his hospital room. Only he was found, no one else of his crew had made it.
At least he had gotten the bastards that had murdered Sam. He never did find out who was really behind it. Was it just those punks, or where they hired to do the job.
He stared at the ceiling of his new room and thought about the last few days. He was starting physical therapy and eating mostly solid food. His stomach was still shrunken from being empty for the last 4 years. He had yet to com his folks, feeling that a little bit longer would not hurt them anymore than what they had already been thru. Now he just wanted to sleep.
Time passes, as it always does. Planets move on in their orbits, ships ply the lanes and people go on.
Alaric pressed his legs against the weights and pushed. Five weeks of therapy had left him in better shape and frame of mind. He had commed his folks a few weeks back and they had been over joyed with the news their son had been found. His dad had flown in with his mother and sister as soon as he could prep a small transport and be underway. The tearful reunion that followed was a beautiful sight to behold.
Since he was not up to travelling just yet and liked the rehab facility he was at, they had decided to let him stay where he was. His mother Kathrin and Kaytlyn his sister stayed with him after his father had to return to the family business. It was nice to have them around as he worked his body to the point of exhaustion each day.
“So what do you want to do when you get out ‘a here Bro?” said Kaytlyn
“Well I want to get back in the pilot’s seat, is what I want to do.” replied Alaric “You still trying to be a pilot?”
“Nah I gave that up, problems with spatial relationships. But I am still good with numbers so I am working with mom keeping that end of the business moving.”
“Good to hear your helping keep dad in line, from buying the newest and shiniest toys.”
“Yeah well with the new war, the collapse of the Corsair council and who knows what else, business has not been all that great. We are ok, but we are nowhere near the level we were at 5 years ago.”
“Man that sucks, guess I am not going to get another card crammed full of credits to get me back on my feet then” Alaric said with a smirk
“Nope no more free handouts for you, you’ll have to work like the rest of us.”
“I will have you know that five years ago I was the captain of a gunboat. Which I paid for myself.” Alaric replied as a shadow passed over his face.
“You lost a lot of good folks that day didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did. They were all behind what we were doing though and we knew the risks we taking. It was something that had to be done. Those bastards had murdered a good man.” Said Alaric “How is OSI doing these days?”
“Oh they are doing ok, I think they are like everyone else, feeling the bite of the war and the typical political instabilities that are the border worlds. You know they have their own station now, and a production facility. Out in Omega-49, based on Gran Canaria I think. The station is Nichols station.”
“Wow he’s got at station named after him, that’s pretty big. I’ll have to go see that, and report to whomever is running things now that I got the killers.”
“I think they would like that. To know that Mr. Nichols was avenged.” Said Kaytlyn “So you want to get back into the big ships?”
“I think I will eventually, but I am not sure. Once I get back into shape and can fly again I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. For now I just want to finish this part of my therapy and then get home.”
“I can’t blame you there bro.” Said Kaytlyn