Former Admin Garrett Jax kept his distance from the mortals known as the Community of Disco. They were an unruly lot, mindless at times, capable of turning upon themselves at the slightest provocation. The Admins, as a rule, kept them at bay with sanctions, tempbans and outright perm bans, turning the hordes' focus off of themselves and upon each other. In cases of emergency, where Community members would form up and rage against their gods, the Admins would search out a lone Dev who strayed too far from his 'herd' and throw him to the mob, in an attempt to satiate the Community's need to spill blood. Garrett shrugged, feeling no guilt. Devs were like worms. They felt no pain.
In most cases, the Community took their anger out upon each other. Nowhere was this more evident than when an individual Community member decided to take his own life. Garrett noticed that every so often a member would get so fed up with his life in Disco, he would scrawl out a suicide note for the rest of the Community to read. Something horrible would happen, the poor sod would snap and decide to leave this world for good, explaining in varying degrees of rage the reason for his tragic choice. Sometimes they were mad at some divine punishment they or a friend of theirs received from the Admins. Sometimes, it was an irritating change in reality made by the Devs that set them off. There were even cases where life simply got too boring for them, making suicide seemingly the only option available. Regardless, these unfortunate souls would feel the need to tell everyone, in a detailed post, why suicide was the answer. The Community called these posts, "Leaving Threads".
In most civilized cultures, suicide is a horrible thing. Loss of life is viewed as a loss felt by everyone. In Disco Community, suicide is viewed as an opportunity. Regularly, the very first response to a person's declaration of intent to commit Disco suicide, is the callous query, "Can I haz your stuff?" Many times, this question gets asked repeatedly by insensitive, opportunistic, vulture-like members of the Community, circling the not-dead-yet body, hoping to take advantage of the guy's depressed mental state. This response is so frequent, that often a suicide note will state somewhere in its initial message, "No, you cannot have my stuff."
Depending on the reason for suicide, and the degree of rage, if any, the Community may decide to viciously attack the person before he actually leaves this world. It is not uncommon for a suicidal person to actually have to defend themselves from attack, just prior to them taking their own lives. Occasionally, a person or two might step in to defend their friend, but this typically results in only giving the Community more targets to kick.
Garrett wondered at the general lack of regard on the part of the Community for these lost souls. Looking more carefully into the matter, he began to realize that suicide wasn't as permanent as he originally assumed. There have been many documented cases of people coming back from suicide in as little as 24 hours. These 'miracles' occurred far too frequently to be disregarded as hoax or myth. It might take a person upwards of a year or more to revive from suicide, but inevitably, they return to Disco life. These resurrections take place so frequently, that some even tell the person before they take their own life, "Cya in a week".
Garrett assumed these Community members were mortal, however evidence suggests that might not be the case. Regardless, he concluded that this dysfunctional group was highly confusing. If he was to dwell among them, he needed to be wary.
(Non RP part. Posting in the Tales of the Admins thread was my favorite part of being an Admin. Although I can't serve the Community in that capacity, I still wish to keep contact with you all and share my joy.)
Former Admin Garrett Jax seated himself at a corner table at Sunbucks Cafe, next to a window overlooking the blue planet of Manhattan. He nodded to the waitress when she pointed to a pot of freshly brewed coffee. Sunbucks coffee wasn't as good as Admin coffee, but it ran a close second. He took a sip and smiled. The only thing missing was the Tears of Zoners. That sweet water was reserved solely for the Admin’s brew, but he didn't care. The coffee here worked just fine.
Sunbucks coffee, although different, helped stave off the homesickness he had for the Temple of the Damned. Sometimes he missed being an Admin. A Mortal recently told him that the Temple didn't exist anymore. How could that be? If he ever discovered what Dev made that change, he was going to kick his arse all the way over to the sweatshop hellhole known as Star Citizen.
Every once in awhile he would lurk around and see what was what with the Community. Sometimes, he’d even succumb to the temptation to interject his thoughts on a topic. One guy wanted to build a wall around the Community, kicking out all A.N.I.M.E lovers, making himself President. What the hell was wrong with A.N.I.M.E? The last thing we’d want is a mob of A.N.I.M.E Rights Activists pounding on our doors demanding the fair and ethical treatment of A.N.I.M.E characters. If that scenario played out, Furries, Bronies and Ponies might get emboldened and start screaming to be let out of their special place--The Reservation. Garrett shivered at the thought.
It was a little unnerving to find himself outside the protective environs of the Temple and smack dab in the middle of such a...diverse set of people. He couldn't recall ever seeing a Bronie walking the halls of the Damned, although he understood that Reverend Del was a secret Pony sympathizer. Garrett simply kept a low profile around these freaks highly valued people and avoided making eye contact at all times. Best not to encourage them, he concluded.
So, until Garrett could figure out where he fit in among the Community, he was going to sit right here at Sunbucks and enjoy his Tearless cup of coffee.
Former Admin Garrett Jax maneuvered his Starblazer toward Barrier Gate Station in Coronado System. The waitress at Sunbucks advised him that if he wanted to meet new people, he wouldn't find a more diverse group than the ones that frequented that base. Garrett wasn't sure whether he was ready to settle in among the members of the Community, but he was bored, and you could only meet so many people at Fort Bush.
A beeping noise from his comm system told him that a transmission was incoming. He pressed the communication tab on the hud to accept the transmission. To his astonishment, it was an invitation for all interested parties to join in something called RP back behind Barrier Gate. The voice of a young woman asked, Are you interested in meeting the most interesting and exotic people? It gave assurances that everyone was screened for infectious diseases and they had something for just about any person's taste. What followed, sounded like their tagline: Remember, what happens in Barrier Gate Station, stays in Barrier Gate Station. How convenient, he thought. Just what he came to the station to do. He wasn't sure what this "RP" was, but if it involved getting to know the Community better, he was all for it. The advertisement even stated that there was discreet docking for his ship behind the station. How thoughtful.
Garrett docked his tiny ship behind Barrier Gate, a thousand red muted lights directing him where to go. He disembarked and discovered a line of red velvet ropes leading him out of the bay and into a lounge/bar type atmosphere. This place made the Sunbucks cafe appear stuffy and sterile. Part of him could tell that the owners of this establishment wanted his patrons to feel very comfortable and relaxed. In reality, he didn't feel comfortable at all. Everything felt almost too informal for his liking. A long bar with glass shelves holding bottles of every type of drink lay ahead. The darkened dining areas were lit up just enough to make out the silhouettes of patrons, mostly male. One or two females dotted the lounge, and everyone seemed to be sitting alone. For a place that was meant to encourage interaction, there didn't seem to be much mingling.
A female shaped android, enhanced with curves in all the right places and long flowing hair walked smoothly toward him. "Have you been here before sir?" it asked.
Garrett recognized the voice of the android as the one on the transmission. "No, I haven't," he replied.
"Excellent," it said, cheerfully. It's voice raised in pitch to denote excitement. "This is a place where couples may engage in "RP" with each other. May I explain how this occurs?"
Garrett needed some answers. Some explaining would definitely help. "Please do," he said. "I have no idea what "RP" is."
The android's eyes lit up, literally. "Why, RP stands for Role Play, sir," she exclaimed. "Role Play makes it easier to get to know new people. You can be whatever you want, you just need to pick a role and then play it in front of the person you wish to meet. The other person picks a role he or she wants to play and they play it in front of you. Do you understand?"
Garrett thought he had it figured out. What an odd way to meet new people. "This is what Mortals do for fun?" he asked.
"Oh yes," the android replied. "Many humans enjoy this type of interaction immensely."
"What if I just want to be myself?" Garrett asked.
The android simulated a droopy face. "Where is the fun in that?" it said. It scanned him a little more carefully. "Who are you, anyways?"
Garrett smirked. "Nobody important.""I used to be an Admin though."
"An Admin?!?" the android said, arms rising in the air to show excitement. "Even a former Admin would be an exciting person to meet. Most people here want to be something more exciting than what they are. You would be an exception to that, I think."
"Yeah, well, I just want to see what's out there, you know," said Garrett. There was a whole community of people to get to know. It was true he knew them as an Admin, but people acted different when they knew you were an Admin. Too much boot licking and groveling. If he came to them as a peer, they might open up and he could get to know them better.
The android smiled, "That is what we are here for, sir." It turned, its arm directing him toward a hallway off to the side. "If you follow me, we can get you started."
Garrett followed the android down the hallway and into a small, dimly lit room. The room smelled of sweat and filth. Before him, a sturdy wooden chair lay askew on the floor with a small wastebasket nearby. A large computer monitor with a keyboard, along with a box of tissues sat on a table which was divided by a heavy dark curtain. He couldn't see anything beyond the curtain, but Garrett assumed it was a room similar to his which held the other half of the table, a computer and a chair of its own. The android straightened the chair and hurriedly checked the wastebasket for debris. It began grumbling when it discovered some discarded tissues and replaced the waste bag with a fresh one.
The android pulled an aerosol can from its torso and proceeded to spray the room. It smelled like flowers trying to cover over sweat and filth. "My apologies for the mess," the android said. "We try to keep these rooms clean at all times, but sometimes humans get a bit...messy."
Garrett rolled his eyes. He was getting frustrated. Why did Mortals have to make things so hard. He considered leaving, but the android already pulled out the chair and invited him to sit down. He took his seat, and instantly the monitor came alive.
The android pointed at the monitor. "Sir, you see the menu on the right hand side? This lists all the roles that are available. If you choose something not on the menu, you may select "Other" at the bottom and type the role you will be playing. Be advised, however, that if the other person doesn't understand what your role is, it may lead to confusion."
"You mean, I won't get to actually meet the person face to face?" asked Garrett.
The android simulated a sigh. "Not at first, sir. You may choose to see a small webcam picture of the person, with whom you are interacting, at the upper left hand corner of your monitor, however most people do not choose that option as it ruins the RP experience for them. Simply select the small webcam box if you wish to see the person. The box will glow red if the other person has chosen to see you."
Garrett noticed the small camera sitting atop the monitor. Do people really interact this way? "So, I just communicate with them via the keyboard?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"Affirmative," replied the android. "You must speak in RP at all times. If you absolutely must speak "Out of Role Play", you must type "//" before your sentence. This will tell the other person that you are not speaking in RP. Any other questions?"
Garrett looked at the curtain. "What is the curtain there for?"
"The curtain may be removed by mutual consent only," admonished the android. Its voice increased in pitch again. "If all goes well, then you may finally meet the person you have been Role Playing with face to face."
That sounded too complicated to Garrett. "Why can't we just remove the curtain and talk to each other now?" he asked.
The android sounded as if it were trying to clear it's 'throat'. "I apologize sir. I am unaccustomed to having to explain human nature to...well...humans. Suffice it to say, this is the way that humans want this process to go: They want to dip their toes in the water first, see how it feels and then either wade in, or get out, all the while preserving as much anonymity as possible."
"Mortals are strange," concluded Garrett.
"They are indeed, sir," the android agreed. "Are you ready to begin?"
Garrett took a deep breath. He didn't have an answer, but he figured he never would feel more ready than he was right now. Might as well see what type of people this Community consisted of. He tried to remain positive and upbeat. After all, he was sure they would be more scared of him, than he was of them. He pressed the button labeled, "Other" and typed in: "Former Admin" in the box. He sat back and waited for the first person to show up.
Former Admin Garrett Jax waited for several seconds. Nothing was happening. The female looking android, standing behind him, asked if he needed some assistance.
“It’s not working,” Garrett said. “Am I missing something?”
The android simulated another sigh. “This is a space simulation program. You are required to select a spacecraft with the allotted funds.” It pointed to another menu on the screen. “Once you select a ship, you may select a system to start in and begin encountering other individuals playing various roles.”
Garrett looked at the ships available to him in the simulation. The menu of ships ranged from the low end light fighters all the way up to the heavy capital ships. The huge battleship looked sweet. If he was going to fly around in space, he wanted the biggest baddest ship on the market. He looked at his available funds. Ten thousand credits?!? He couldn’t even afford a single gun on one of those battleships. This was too much like real life. As an Admin, he could create credits from out of thin air, assembling any ship he wanted. Now that he was no longer all powerful, he was going to have to get credits the old fashioned way. He was going to have to earn them. Garrett frowned. Working was something Admins desperately tried to avoid. That's what Moderators were for.
Garrett shook his head in dismay. The battleships would have to be put on hold for a time. All he wanted to do was to get to know the Community, integrate himself among the masses and fit in as a fellow Mortal. He could do that in the only spacecraft currently available to him, the default ship, Startracker.
Once he selected the ship, a menu listing all the systems in the known universe. Garrett decided to be bold and select the button: RANDOM.
The android let out a high pitched prolonged beep simulating a whistle. “You are a brave one, sir,” it noted. “Be very careful. Some systems can be quite dangerous for a small spacecraft.”
Garrett turned around, exasperated. “Do you really need to be here?” he asked.
The android lowered its head. “I’m sorry sir. I’ve never seen someone try to RP a former Admin before. I honestly don’t know how people will take to it. This is kind of exciting. Do you mind if I stay and watch? I will endeavor to remain silent.”
“Fine, whatever,” Garrett replied, annoyed. He was forced to admit the android was being quite helpful.
His ship was instantly teleported to an System unfamiliar to him. He checked the NavMap on his ship’s console and it was completely blank. He was in deep space, outside the range of all solar objects. Garrett felt a knot forming in his stomach. He was lost.
He stopped and collected his thoughts. What can I do? What do I have available to me? He looked at his ship inventory. He had nothing, save a piece of identification which said 'Freelancer ID' on it.
He turned to the android. “I thought I selected Former Admin,” he complained. “Why does it say I’m a Freelancer?”
The android smiled. “Sir, there is no option for 'Former Admin' in the current list of predefined IDs. If you choose an ID that is not listed, the program gives you the best option available, and you must RP that role with those you come across, so they understand who and what you are.”
Garrett shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess.”
There was nothing else to do, so Garrett plotted a course around the blinding yellow sun and started flying. Hopefully, someone would appear soon and he could get this program over with. Why did Mortals make it so hard to interact with each other?
After a couple minutes, a ship appeared on sensors. Considering he had the lowest grade sensor available, it meant that the ship was right on top of him. His sensors told him it was a Blossom, a much stronger ship than what he was flying.
“Oh my,” the android remarked. “It’s a Golden Chrysanthemum.”
Garrett turned back around to the android. An annoyed expression crossed his face.
The android put its hands over its mouth. “Oops. Sorry.”
Of course, the Chrysanthemum in question hadn't heard any of the previous exchange. All she'd noticed was the sudden appearance of a Startracker flashing a Freelancer IFF, out here in the middle of Hokkaido halfway between the clouds. As to why it was there - that was a different question altogether. She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but as the tiny shuttle turned towards her, its weak sensors finally able to lock onto her Blossom's signature, she felt a strange compulsion to investigate.
"Hi!" began Komachi, pulling her fighter to a halt just in front of the other shuttle. The Blossom wasn't a large ship by anyone's standards - even among its own class, it was one of the smallest - but compared to the shuttle, her fighter was almost twice its length and just as tall. For a moment, she wondered if she was intimidating the other pilot - but even as that thought crossed her mind, her speakers sparked into action.
"Hello?" came the expected reply, although whoever was speaking sounded a little more disinterested than she'd been anticipating. Space travel was meant to be exciting at the best of times - and in the radioactive, gamma-ray filled Kyofu between Hokkaido's protective gas clouds, it could be positively terrifying; doubly so if one was in a small, unarmoured shuttle. Even her Blossom would slowly degrade in the fiery glow of the dying star here, but the pilot opposite her appeared totally unfazed by the holes slowly drilling their way through his hull plating.
"Hey," she repeated, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Are you okay? You're- I think your ship's melting."
"Is it?" Again, the lack of concern in the pilot's voice was staggering. If anything, he just sounded more annoyed than worried. "Should we move?"
"Probably. I mean, unless you wanna end up deep-fried and dead from rad poisoning. That's no bueno, as the Maltese say. C'mon, follow me."
Gingerly, she nudged her ship into motion, checking behind her to make sure the freelancer was moving before she activated her cruise engines. Thankfully, their trip took them only a couple of minutes, and it wasn't long before the pair were ensconced in the outskirts of Hokkaido's southern nebula. Visibility was way down here, of course, but at least their ships weren't slowly cooking them any more.
Now that they were safe, Komachi cut her cruise engines, watching with a wry smile as the shuttle mimicked her actions. Again, she pulled up alongside it.
"So - what's your biz, pilot? Not a lot of Startracker pilots out in the Kyofu, that's for sure."
"I'm experiencing the world as mortals do," explained her new companion, matter-of-factly. This, however, raised more questions than it answered.
"You're what?"
A slow sigh came across the speakers, slightly fuzzed by the shuttle's out-of-date comm arrays. "I used to be an Administrator. Not any more, though. I wanted to see what life is like without my infinite powers."
Komachi, for her part, didn't reply immediately. Instead, her heart sank. Oh dear. It's one of these pilots. Normally, Sirius' various 'edgy' folk conglomerated around two distinct hotspots: the outer Omicrons, and Coronado's very own Barrier Gate Station. Usually sporting a civilian transponder and ID code - although all sorts of varieties had arisen lately, from the classic Order type to the more recent 'good guy in a bad guy's job' spinoff - these mysterious and unpersonable folk would cluster around the nearest station like a set of angsty, silent limpets - each one just itching to be asked about their deep, complex, and ultimately tragic pasts. Kusari had mostly remained free of them, but she'd always wondered when the herds might migrate. Perhaps this was the beginning of something terrifying.
"I see," she said tentatively, by way of breaking the awkward silence. "I don't, uh- I don't quite know what you mean."
It was going to be a long day.
"Okay, so I'll hold him up and you can tell me what you wanna see from him, okay?"
The Hokkaido-Yokohama jumpgate wasn't exactly the most busy trade artery in the sector - in fact, it was almost strictly inferior to perching on top of the Honshu gate. Still, the relative quietness was what Komachi was banking on, as well as the close proximity to Ainu and the Shiden Cloud. If anything went wrong - something that was very likely with a first-timer on her wing - then the nebula would (or should) offer them a decent chance of shaking a tail. Despite her misgivings, she'd eventually agreed
Fortunately, as a lone Ryuujin had just fallen out of the lane and ground to a resigned-looking halt in front of them, it looked like her and her new partner were in business.
"All right?" she repeated, taking a quick glance at the Startracker.
"Why can't I do it myself?" he asked, already sounding annoyed. "I don't need a demonstration. I know how it works, and I want to experience extorting him firsthand."
"That's not allowed," chastised the Chrysanthemum, as if it were obvious. "You're not a pirate, you're a freelancer. You can't demand anything from him."
"But why-"
"Look, that train's not going to sit there all day. Are you with me or not?"
"Yes, yes," came the terse reply, prompting her to roll her eyes. Oh, this is going to be good, one way or another. Lounging lazily in her chair, she motored the Blossom up close to the train, opening a comms channel right away.
"Okay, buddy," she began, eyeing the larger ship's reflective glass with a raised eyebrow. Some sort of anti-intimidation technique, perhaps? Gone were the days of making direct eye contact with the person you were ripping off, it seemed. "What's the cargo today?" Of course, she'd already scanned the transport, but it was part of her routine. Engaging the captain in dialogue meant he was busy talking with her, not pinging every system authority in range with an emergency hail.
"Pharmaceuticals," interrupted a voice in her ear. "It's pharmaceuticals. Even my shuttle can see that."
"Sssh! I know!" she hissed, directing a glance of distinct irritation at the small ship hovering just beside her. "I'm only asking because-"
"Pharmaceuticals today," came a second, more sullen voice. That, at least, gave her a small measure of relief. Some captains, for reasons that totally escaped her, seemed to operate on a no-dialogue policy with her. One way or another, they'd stay completely silent, either complying with all her orders in mute obedience or simply attempting to motor on while ignoring her. The former was just boring; the latter was a waste of everyone's time. Not to mention how much it must cost to repair those floating hulks once she'd drilled antimatter holes through the entire superstructure. Interspace must have been offering some really, really good premiums to transport captains.
"Okay, okay. Bound for Tomioka then, right? Oh, man, do I know about the Pharm boom up there. Something to do with all those furry animals they hunt having fleas, or something. Rough job, huh?" As usual, she chattered away to put the captain at ease. Reassured yet careful was better than panicked and ready to run. Receiving the cold, hard credits straight from a neural net account was always easier than having to call a transport to scoop spilled cargo out of vacuum - and trains that decided to cut and run rarely ended up paying in cash.
Switching comms channels briefly, she addressed her companion once again.
"So," she said. "What do you think? This is your introduction, so I'll let you decide what we should take."
"Well, I quite like his ship. I want to commandeer his vessel."
Komachi blinked, shaking her head instinctively.
"What? No, no - you can't do that! You can't just take people's ships from them!"
"Why not?" The shuttle's pilot sounded thoroughly bemused, with just a hint of irritation mixed in. "We're robbing him, aren't we? Why wouldn't we take as much as we want?"
"That's not how it works," she explained. "You have to keep things reasonable. Those are the rules."
"Rules?" He sounded even more annoyed now. "I thought this was already illegal. How can there be rules?"
"There just are," she insisted, a pleading note entering her voice. "It's interstellar law. Otherwise, everything would just degenerate into total anarchy. Transports wouldn't meekly pull over for us any more, and we'd have to do actual work for our money. That, and I'd probably get flight grounded again if word got out that I was just, like, performing actual terrorism. Even though we're, uh, technically terrorists. Technically." A bead of sweat ran down her forehead, though of course, he couldn't possibly have seen that. Explaining this was harder than she'd thought. "Look, that's just how it is, okay? I just spent upwards of six months flightless on Ainu, and I really, really don't wanna repeat that whole rigmarole."
"So, what? I have to ask for something middle-of-the-road? I can't just take everything?" The disbelief in his tone was clear. Clearly, this hadn't been something he'd anticipated.
"Yeah, so that means no stealing the ship, no demanding his entire bank account, no getting him to crash into Kitadake just for the fun of it - oh, and definitely no sawing parts of the ship off for resale." She shuddered at the thought of the last one. Oh, boy, would that get her in trouble. "Look, when I said you could pick what we get him to fork over, what I was implying was that we just apply the standard fee. Four million credits, flat rate."
"Whatever." There was still some interest there, but her companion was clearly quite annoyed. For once, she didn't really blame him. Piracy was either a hassle, or it was boring. Having to run down fleeing transports as they blared distress calls on the systemwide band was just annoying - you got desensitised to it after a while; whereas making money from compliant, malleable captains was far too routine. Still, there was a certain art to the procedure that she found enjoyable. Hopefully, her new protégé could see glimmers of that, too. His innocence and naivete was certainly amusing, even if his irritable personality left something to be desired.
"Look - why don't you finish this off, okay? You may as well do something here." The words left her mouth before she could stop them, and she almost immediately regretted them. While she'd technically started the encounter, she was really meant to see it the whole way through herself. Allowing another pilot to take over - particularly one with a civilian papers and transponder code - was a very, very grey area. Was this allowed? Honestly, she didn't know how well it would hold up - but the Startracker pilot just seemed so... disappointed. Maybe this would help cheer him up a bit.
"I thought I wasn't allowed?" he complained, although she could hear that he was interested even behind his obvious irritation. Well, it was definitely too late to back out now.
"Just- look, just this once, okay? Then you can decide if piracy's really the path you wanna go down, and get your papers sorted out once and for all. Besides, nobody'll care about a one-off." I hope.
Somehow, her companion didn't seem too bothered by the potential consequences of violating interstellar law. Instead, he swooshed quickly up to the Ryuujin's left flank, and she heard a sharp click as his communications array changed frequencies to continue negotiations with the transport captain.
It only took a few seconds, but then the train lurched forwards again, its cruise engines spooling up from a dead stop. Wary as always, Komachi hailed her shuttlebound apprentice to confirm receipt of funds, keeping her cruise disruptor locked just in case the captain was doing a runner.
"Yo, amigo. He clear to go, or...?"
"I have the money here, yes." Though he didn't exactly sound excited, there was a strange quality to his voice that hadn't been there before, and she smiled at it. Everyone's first time ripping off a transport was the same - it was hard to believe so much money could be made by doing so little. A few words and a healthy dose of 'implication' could earn dividends far in excess of the actual effort put in.
"Well done!" she gushed, proud of her success as a teacher. "Hey, now you can afford a new ship. One that can actually power the engines, the guns, and the shields all at once."
The shuttle's pilot didn't reply, apparently still deep in thought. "I have a question."
"Sure, go ahead?" Whatever it was, she was happy to answer. After all, they'd already come this far. Maybe she'd saved this brooding, irritable pilot from a lifetime of delusions and 'edgy' behaviou-
"Do you want to open the curtain?"
The question hung in the air like a Valor in low Leeds orbit, and her heart sank. Oh, well. Things had been progressing so nicely, too. It was amazing how quickly an encounter could go from zero to hero and back again. Really, she shouldn't have been surprised. Everyone always came after the curtain, sooner or later. Perhaps all the chit-chat and shooting was just a form of extended foreplay to them. A means to a raunchy end; an immersive way to approach a distinctly unimmersive topic. Once the curtain was open, no holds were barred - and things could end up going a lot further in any number of ways imagineable. Fortunately, letting those who tried their luck down gently got easier with practise. All it would take was...
"...no," came the eventual reply, the Blossom turning abruptly away on the screen in front of him. "I'm afraid I'm good, but that's- well, that's about all I have time for. Bye." Before he could object, the slim fighter had already completed the lane activation sequence, disappearing into the skies of Kusari without a backwards glance.
Garrett watched the Blossom disappear down the tradelanes, not understanding where it all went wrong. He ran the entire encounter back through his head. He did as he was instructed...check. He played within the rules of interstellar law, sort of...check. Everything was going great, clear up to the moment he asked about the curtain. He couldn't help but notice how disgusted the Golden Chrysanthemum's voice sounded after he asked that question. Was it that bad of a thing to want to meet face to face and get to know people?
The android approached. "Aw, so close."
Garrett turned around to face the android with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't that close."
"Keep trying," said the android, encouragingly. "You're not going to give up after one encounter, are you?"
Garrett considered it. He thought again about the encounter. It was enjoyable. The pilot was friendly and helpful, even if she sounded a bit annoyed when he told her he was a former Admin. Maybe she had a bad experience with Admins in the past. Regardless, she pretty much saved his crappy ship from solar meltdown. He completely forgot his ship didn't have Admin shields anymore, nor armor, nor any Banhammers--he was quite harmless now that he thought about it. It's a wonder he even managed to stay alive. The Blossom pilot even allowed him to keep the four million credits they extorted from the trader. It was a shame that he wasn't allowed to commandeer the tradeship though.
Overall, there were enough positives from the encounter to warrant another try. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try again," he told the android.
Over the course of several hours and countless retries, however, Garrett eventually gave up. It was the same scenario every time. He encountered an individual, didn't matter what faction he was aligned with, and things would move along splendidly. He learned a little about what they did, worked with them for a time, had some success, offered to open the curtain and....rejection. Some flew off silently. Others activated their cloaking devices and just disappeared. A few made some disparaging remarks and called him perverted and sick.
The last was a young Kusarian girl, flying a Templar with a Bretonian Police ID of all things. When he offered to open the curtain, she called him a disgusting bastard and told him she was going to notify the authorities. His webcam button flashed red, indicating that his camera was on. Garrett had a feeling his picture was taken.
What the hell?
Finally, Garrett shut the program off. He was confused. It began to dawn on him that he was missing a key bit of information relating to this place. He turned, and flat out asked the android, "What exactly does it mean when I ask to open the curtain?"
The android replied matter-of-factly. "It means you want to cyber with them. Or, possibly more..."
"What?!?" Garrett screamed. "Are you freaking kidding me? I think some of those people might have been underaged. I had no idea that was what was meant by opening the curtain." It all made sense now. The reactions of all those people. What must they have thought about him?
"That would explain things sir," the android remarked. "I was wondering why you were trying so hard to have sexual encounters with every man, woman, nomad and child you came across. Actually, I'm quite relieved now that I think on it."
Garrett felt sick and dirty. "Why didn't you tell me that's what it meant?"
The android got defensive. "You didn't ask, so I assumed you knew."
Garrett got up in a rush, the chair pushed aside. "I need to get out of here, quick."
The android put a hand to it's ear, as if listening to something. It raised it's other hand requesting Garrett to hold up a moment. "I just received a transmission from the Liberty Police. They are on their way to arrest you for soliciting a minor. I'm very sorry, but I've been ordered to detain you."
This isn't happening. Garrett implored the android, "You know I'm innocent. I had no idea. Please let me go." Sweet Igiss, but he was in trouble.
The android appeared reflective for a moment. "I believe you, sir. For your sake, I will pretend I had difficulty locating you, giving you the opportunity to escape. I suggest you hurry."
Garrett ran like hell.
It took only moments, moments that seemed an eternity, until he reached his small ship in the docking bay. He ran down how much time he thought he might have. Five minutes to fire up the engines. Another five to start up prelaunch sequences. A few minutes more to get flight clearance. How long would it take for the Liberty Police to arrive? Coronado wasn't in the heart of Liberty space by any means, but if some officers happened to be in California system, that would spell trouble. It was going to be close...
Another eternity passed. Garrett managed to undock from the base. He was never coming here again. As the docking bays opened, flashing red and blue lights blinded him. Three police Liberators, armed with eager Magma Hammers threatening to destroy him in a single volley. An emergency transmission overrode his comm system:
THIS IS THE LIBERTY POLICE. DOCK YOUR VESSEL, IMMEDIATELY!
Garrett's heart sank. He was caught. They were going to throw him in the nearest hellhole prison station. He imagined being in a cell with a huge inmate named Og, who really liked former Admins. He shuddered.
Left with no choice, Garrett began to turn his vehicle and comply with police instructions.
Just then, a massive bright light indicating a decloaking ship emblazoned the starry sky.
A blue vessel of enormous size began to materialize above the three Liberators. Was that a Marduk? The Libbies looked like play toys in comparison. They scattered, in response, seemingly forgetting all about Garrett.
Lovely. Certain death was imminent. He tried to look at the bright side. At least he wouldn't have to worry about spending intimate nights with Og.