The Gemini

[gemini]

(( //thanks to the owner of the DarkstarTwo for participating in our story and letting me define some things about her captain! Please give all comments by PM, constructive praise, critiscism and suggestions appreciated, no replies here please.//))

**Prolouge**

Derek Altair walked into the Rochester bar like he owned the place.
At 6 foot 7 and 38, with a ruddy visage and wild blond hair, he felt as young as the day he bought his first fighter.
Incidentally he hadn;t flown a fighter in two years. For sure, he loved the adrenaline of the chase and the kills and the freedom, but he had discovered a new occupation.
Smuggling.
The thrills kept on coming, it paid in spades, he mustve met half the craziest people in Sirius, seen the best vistas, and even if the ion storms ever got him, the law sure wouldn't.

After only a few highly illicit and adrenaline soaked runs in a dumpy old Taiidan GMG scrap heap, he had acrrued enough credits to purchase something worthy of flying. A chipper little armored transport that he had christened the "Darkstar Two"
The GMG freighter had been the Darkstar one, and aside from the 3 million credits burning a hole in his neural net, the ionic infections on the hull had literally eaten away the entire starboard stabilizer.

The DS-II was faster and more agile than most transports, and what she lacked in a sheerly over-kill sized hold, she made up for in armor plating and turrets.

Early on he had learned that corporate and criminal VIPs would pay surprisingly vast amounts to be transported to all kinds of questionable destinations illegaly and off the books. 'no questions asked., what do you say to half a million and we forget my name, thank you very much'
It was all well and good with Derek. It kep the coffe coming and maybe, just maybe, he would have enough money soon to invest it in something useful.

But what? He didnt want another fighter, this smugglers life suited him well, and an upgraded transport would bring nothing but grief in upkeep costs and attention.

Meanwhile he was taking Sirius' big cheese head honchos to the capital of scum and villany, Malta itself, and running back sealed crates which he assumed contained Cardamine.
The very thought of the substance made him sick.

He had once tried it... and nearly given in. But fortunately a 3 month stint in a medical bay after inhaling 40 litres of plasma coolant will break a man of a habit surprisingly fast.

From then on derek never saw the Outcasts the same way, He increasingly fell in with the Corsairs, though junkers were supposed to be 'neutral'

In a way, he reflected as he ordered a triple shot espresso from the barkeep, he was killing two ships in one shot. Dump the jerkiest corporate cheeses on the scummiest addictee criminals. And let them eat eachothers hearts out. They deserved it, Meanwhile spreadind cardamine was one habit he couldnt break himself of. The sealed crates simply paid too much.

But he was close. Especially after that last run in with the Bretonians on the way to Glasgow. He was lucky he had run into what must have been the only kind officers in Her Mjesty's corps.
Even the DS-II was no match for a superiorly crafted Bretonian gunboat. 30,00 metric tons of hurt.

He asked himself again why he was back in Liberty. The only scum-hole worse tham Malta in his mind.
Then the coffe brought it back 'oh yeah...' the shout rang out across the bar, "Derek!"
'my brother. crap'

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Kephal Altair was a read headed, red bearded stocky fellow with a temper to match the color of his follicles. And he was Derek's older brother by two months.
Incidentally Derek was here because of Kephal.
The blond headed man sighed, "Kephal... Im sorry in advance..."
WHAM! he delivered a jaw snapping jab to the side of Kephal's head, resulting in a roar of surpise and anger.
"WHAT IN #@$)$#@*)% WAS THAT FOR?!?!" Kephal shouted in his thick scottish accent, "AHL HAVE YER HIDE STAPLED TO MAH WINGS YA KEN?!?!"

Derek rolled his eyes, "Its your fault you son of a bi-hulled barge... if not for you and your issues Id be back in the Tau's right now making serious profit!"

Kephal wiped a trickle of blood from his chin, and muttered, "not that yeve got anything tae do with them credits.." then louder,
"Mah issues? ya fool brother... whos tha one a throwin punches at his own kith and kin? Fer no reason?"

Derek snorted, "No reason? explain this."
he slammed a data tablet down on the bar.
Kephal read it;

'TO; Mr Derek Altair, Master of the vessel Darkstar Two
FROM; Bounty Hunter's guild, 5th wing, second division, division commander
Subject; your brother
message;
Dear Mr Altair,
This message is to inform you that your brother was recently involved in an altercation in the bar of the LNS Mississippi with 4 of my men. Security footage clearly shows that he provoked the attack, but since he seems... unable to pay the requisite fine, his ship has been impounded. You have been notified at his request in the hopes that you might, "Assist yer own kin"
Sincerely,
Mark Flint, 5th wing, second division commander, Texan Bounty Hunters.'

Kephal stared... "Nae! Nae! Its a LIE! I have no even been ta Texas in that last MONTH!"
Derek snorted again, "You expect me to... my god man... youre serious?"
Kephal nodded. For all his flaws in Derek's eyes, the man knew his own brother, and he was no liar. On the contrary, any fight he started Kephal would want to take credit for. And besides he would want his Falcon back if it had really been impounded....

Kephal had been raised by a friend of the Family on Leeds, he had grown up in a scottish roots home and retained signs of it proudly.
Their foster parents had been poor, pooer than their biological, and dead, parents.
They had been killed in a Xeno raid when Derek was only three weeks old.
So their foster parents had adopted them both, but being unable to sustain them both, they had sent Derek off to Liberty Naval Academy..
But he had swiftly broken ranks, been pegged for insubordination, and gotten cashiered out.
He fell in with the Junkers not long after and they set him on his feet and helped him buy his first fighter...
He and Kephal had come so far since then...

Kephal now flew as a mercenary freelancer bound only by his supply of credits and drinks, and his own code of honor. Which was why this incident made no sense.

Kephal looked up from the padd to derek, "Ah think we've been had right good this time brother. Oh by the way..." WHAM, "I owed ye. Ya Ken?"

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Saga of the Gemini; http://discoverygc.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=24486