Alistair took a swig from his coffee, he cringed as the bitter and now cold drink worked its way down his throat. He put his coffee down and took a second to observe his command room around him, the old decrepit command room seemed to be held together by duct tape and super glue. Dublins deep brown honey color beamed in through the forward viewport. Its inviting color gave off a warmth, a false warmth. In its place was a dark world in which people worked to death, just trying to get by, and pirates pillaged everything that wasnt strapped to the flanks of a gunship.
Alistair tried to swivel his seat over too talk to his chief mining officer, the seat barely moved. He looked down to see a pool of lubricant was forming around his feet. It was what allowed the chair to move freely. He got up and kicked the chair in anger, he attempted to move it around with his hands. It still wouldnt move, Alistair got angrier and start to get more violent he felt like he wanted to rip the chair off its stand, to rip it apart.Sir? Alistair looked around; it was his communications officer Sarah Breen. Her blue eyes were full of confusion, and fear, they looked brilliant against her pale skin and dark hair. The things he wanted to do to her. Then all of a sudden, Alistair snapped back to reality. Things were fuzzy, he was disoriented, and confused, Huh? What? What do you want? Alistair realized the bridge staff was watching him. Are you okay sir? You just attacked you chair. Sarah said.
Yes, of course Im alright! If the damn repair techs could just keep this ship in functioning shape! Damn it, How is the mining going Steves! The Bridge crew scurried back to they work, hiding their faces. Thats why he loved his bridge staff; they were all so timid and mild. Sir, were nearing just over 13 hundred units. Samantha Steves responded. Her voice quivered, she was afraid of the captain. He wasnt in his right mind. Good, tell the miners to hurry up. Captain Greenback said to her. She hated his voice; it sent chills down her spine. He made her skin crawl. Before she could respond, Navigations control panel lit up. Sir, weve got red on scanners, just one ship. Looks like a corsair fighter. Im initiating emergency protocol. Engines are revving to full. Course is set in for the Essex.
Juan Medina smiled behind his oxygen mask. His Gladiator had navigated the Gold field with such ease, such grace that he managed to slip nearly undetected to within 1500 meters of the mining ship right in front of him. He could tell he had been detected as the hulk of a ship attempted to activate its cruise engines, but it was stupid enough to be mining in a... well.. a minefield. An explosion rang out as Juan fired a cruise disruptor at a nearby mine which exploded in a haze of beauty, yellow then orange. The explosion nearly knocked the Mining ship into another asteroid but not before disabling the cruise engines.
"Mining vessel... let's make this easy on the both of us. Hault your engines, and don't try to run. Unless you want a mini-razor up your cockpit. I'm sure your company wouldn't want yet another dead crew and a worthless floating piece of metal."
Juan shifted in his seat, grinning wildly. A sort of primal look in his eyes, one such as a tiger licks its lips before it takes the first bite out of a delicious deer.
“Damage Report!” Alistair screamed, “Why the hell didn’t we pick this crazy up earlier!” His mind was racing; he couldn’t afford to be pirated. He was already so far behind in the bills; his family was starving and stuck in Leeds. His lead engineer, Tricia Bedwell, spoke up cutting his thought process short.
“We’ve got hull breaches on decks 3, 5 and 6 Sir. Main fuel lines have been knocked out by the mine’s blast sir, we can still maintain impulse speed.” Alistair’s mind went back to the problem at hand, negotiations were the only option.
“Tricia, get the engineering staff to work, those hull breaches are secondary. If we don’t get those thrusters online we’re done. Sabrina, cut the engines and open a communications channel.” Tricia went to work allowing Alistair to move towards the Navigation and Communications control center, and it’s scrumptious petite operator Sabrina Winchester. Her hair smelt so good it was intoxicating.
“Sir, we’ve reached a full stop, we didn’t pick him up on scanners because there was a lapse in our coverage, a power fluctuation in the lower decks. He’s responding to the Communications request now.” Her speech snapped Alistair out of his state and back to reality. “Excellent, I want it on the main screen, now.” Alistair Commanded.
He willed his feat back to his chair, to assume command of his ship, but Sabrina’s smell drove him crazy. It made him want to run his hands through her short curly red hair, and he didn’t mean the long straight hair on her head. But finally He moved, and made it to his chair just in time to respond to the pirate. “This is Captain Alistair Greenback of mining vessel Ninety Nine, Whom am I speaking to and what are your demands?”
Juan smiled at Captain Allister. So pathetic. Initial scans indicated the crew was all female except him. How convenient. Juan wondered which of the mans crewmembers he would depart with most easily, but he would get to that part later.
"My name is Juan Medina of the Corsair Empire. You are mining in my field, and for that I must ask you for a tax. Ten Million Credits for your... continued safety.
He smiled quaintly and awaited a reply. This Captain would never expect his next demand, and Juan knew that he wouldn't ever be able to fork over ten million credit. A ridiculous amount, yet one that had to be asked if he was going to get his secondary prize. He had tracked Sabrina his far out, and she was almost in his grasp now... so close he could taste her.
She should never have kissed a Corsair so passionately. She should never have even docked on Trafalgar in the first place. Her loss for being the temptress she was. She most likely would not remember him, but if she did he would have that much more fun with her. Juan had to have her. She was a delicacy the likes of which he had never tasted before or after that one moment in time. The memories of that night burned in his soul like a fire. He wanted that fire to be quenched, and it would only be quenched if she was his. Then another fire would be lit.
Ten million credits, took a deep breath in, something was wrong. Corsairs were smart; they knew that miners never carried that much cash on hand. This corsair must be looking for a reason to destroy the miner; he needed to give him a good reason not to.
Mr. Medina, I cant afford that. Im sure you can sympathise with that. The corsairs were a poor people, he could play on that. Sir, Ive muted the mic, our pick-up transport is requesting the all clear to depart for our location. Shall I send them away? Sabrina cut in, that whore kept interrupting his train of thought. Of course you idio-. Alistair stopped mid sentence. It hit him. Sabrina hold a second, put them on hold off, and open the channel again. Mr. Medina I have a proposition; theres a heavy Transport coming here to pay me for this load of ore, if you allow him to pay me. Ill assist you in pirating, and destroying the Transport.
The bridge staff all stared at him, the look on their face was of horror, and disbelief Sam shot Sarah a look, how could he do this. How could he put in danger so many people. All you would have to do is move in, and hide in our Radar Shadow. Well even drop the shields for a second so you can get as close as possible."
He was endangering the crew now. If the pirate moved in without the shields, it would only take one, or two hits to destroy the barely holding together miner. Alistair had prayed things went well, the bridge staff just though he had gone crazy. If the mining crew found out, there'd be a riot. The tension on the bridge was almost thick enough to manifest it's self physically. It all rested on the corsair now, that and a whole lot of luck.
Juan almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. There really were people in the world without souls. A man betraying his own transport. A shameful dishonor, but an opportunity that does not come very often. His communications went silent for a few minutes before a click was heard and he spoke once again.
"Offer accepted. Hiding in your Wake."
Juan thought for a moment again, what if it was a trap? Well he had enough firepower to down the Miner anytime he chose as it was too heavily damaged to truly fight back. The transport most likely carried inexperienced operators as well, and luck was on his side.
"And Captain... Don't get stupid at the last moment. My razor will be aiming for your bridge if that's the case. Blackout procedures initiated"
His communications went dead for the next few moments as he pondered and awaited the transports arrival. His signature would be completely masked by the Miner's large metallic frame. Sabrina would have to wait. Her long braided red hair soon to no longer be a memory.
Sabrina hit the mute button on the console Sir, please say you want me to call the BAF, or some mercs, anything Sir. Just tell me you have a plan. She looked at Alistair, her Brown eyes pleading with him. He wanted nothing more than to keep her happy. But things needed to be done. He needed this money, he needed to survive. Send the All clear. Now
The bridge crew held their breath, and Sabrina and Alistairs eyes met the scowl on her face almost made Alistair feel guilty, only because she the happier he was, the closer he was to his goal. Sabrina looked away, and sent the all clear code. Let me know when the transport is here. The tension was a ugly monster forcing everyones eyes away from Alistair, he relished in the power. He controlled the room, and the crew didnt even realise. He controlled that monster called tension.
Miner niner niner, this is Transport Zulu Papa four four, we read your shields as offline, do you require assistance? Should we call for an escort wing? The transports Captain came over the com system. Transport Zulu Papa four four, this is miner niner niner, negative we do not require assistance weve only had a minor power fluctuation, theyll be back online soon." Roger niner niner, weve got your money. You got our ore?The transport Captain gruff attitude was typical. He had no respect for miners; Alistair would have no problem watching this man burn. Roger Zulu Papa, Well begin transfer once youre in range." The Ship hummed as the transport shuttles warmed up for the transfer. Sarah, the internal communications officer kept looking at Alistair. She couldnt believe what was happening. This was unbelievable. Someone needed to do something. She needed to do something.
Alistair was sitting in his chair, even if it didnt rotate. He felt confident, he had a corsair eating out of his pocket, he was going to make double his money on this load. Once from this transport, and then again when he met with the rest of his team at the Essex. Things were going great. Movement on the bridge caught his attention, and snapped him out of his narcissistic fantasy. It was Sarah, she was getting out of her seat, and she was headed for the Sabrinas station. What are you doing Breen? Alistair Said. Im doing what you someone should have already. Im alerting that transport. Alistair couldnt let that happen. He only had one option. He reached for his captains side Arm. It was a Sunshooter Sidearm, an energy beam. He trained it on her Dont you dare move Sarah.
She stopped almost half way between the two stations. Her heart was in her throat, would he actually shoot her? After all, he was jeopardizing the crew of that transport. What was one more life. Sir, we cant kill all those people
Cant we?
Its wrong sir.
Youd rather it be us?
She paused, did she? Thats what I thought, now sit back down. Bitch.
Tricia piped in, her voice shaky with fear. Sir, weve loaded all the ore onto the transport, what are your orders. Alistair followed Sarah back to her chair. Sabrina, Give the all clear, on all open channels, make sure our friend knows what it is.
He closed his eyes for a few moments to clear his head. He was a Corsair. Why was he having so much trouble pulling the trigger on some most likely rich transport pilot, who HAD food to feed his family. Juan struggled with this decision for all of ten seconds. The Miner had made a choice in trusting him, and Juan was going to be sure to follow through on the plan. Still... he had his doubts now. None of it mattered, however.
A brilliant flash of light rang out.
His mini-razor glided like a perfect wave underneath the miner's right engine, almost hitting it, and hit its mark. The entire bridge crew of the transport was kill instantly, as they had never seen it even coming because of the angle. That's all it took.
It sat there like a dead heap of metal... a rich heap of metal, he pondered. So much gold ore, yet there was also blood on his hands now. It felt strange, he had always been the sympathetic type. Only wanting to do what he had to do to feed his friends and his sisters. He now crossed a line he hoped he never had to again, but it was one that could not be returned to once stepped over.
Juan sighed, long and exasperated. He felt their deaths. Those were people. It was no time for thinking about it now, he clicked on his communications as he turned his ship toward the miner.
"How does it feel to have assisted in murdering your fellow workers?"
His tone was filled with disgust. He spit those words out.
"Now what, hermano?"
Sabrina crossed his mind once again as he waited on a reply.
Explosions ripped through the remaining bulk of the lifeless transport, it was a Heron, probably a hired freelancer crew. Huh, no loss there, freelancers couldn't even choose a side. At least a merc you know would be going to whom paided the most money.
Alistair relished in the power, of seeing the transport float lifelessly. Hed convinced a pirate to kill for him, and hed made an exorbitant amount of money in the process. Get those shuttles moving again, I want as much of that ore out of there as possible. Sarah, do you damn job and pull the credits out of that ship. Give half of it to our pirate friend.
He spat the last part out,
thatd bitch was going to be a really problem.
Hed have to do something about that,
Now what, hermano? The corsairs voice came over the comm channel. Alistair thought for a moment. This was a beautiful arrangement. He made a huge amount of money, the pirate made more than he would be able to on his own. And some useless freelancers got killed in the process. No big deal.
I think its time we sit down and hammer out a working arrangement, hermano. Im sure the 15 million credits transferred into your account will assist you in agreeing to that much. Shall we meet at Trafalgar? That Junker rat-hole in New London?