1.15

Preytor sat on the medbay bunk, his back to the wall, waiting for the weaker painkillers to wear off so his own, much more potent nanite based medication would kick in. He had watched silently as four security guards had carried GH into the bay, and placed him no-so-gently into the diagnostic pod. He had watched silently as the room slowly cleared out, technicians leaving one by one to attend to other duties, as only he and GH were there as patients. He watched silently as the chronometer ticked away the minutes, turning slowly into hours. He was really sick of watching, and he was really sick of being silent.

Hearing voices and footfalls approaching in the corridor he could make out Hawkinz speaking to a woman. They stopped before entering the medbay, but their conversation continued. With the enhancers built into his helmet, he could make out some of what was being said. Enough of the conversation was clear to indicate that they had been observing the progress of the pod from another location. Both were very disturbed by the presence of several foreign substances present in Goldie’s body, concentrating in his brain. Both were also very relieved that the pod appeared to be able to neutralize all of them. The analysis of the substances themselves however, was not going well.

The door slid open as Hawk shook hands with the woman he had been talking with, and walked into the bay. He stopped to peer in at GH in the pod, and shook his head. Noticing Prey sitting up in bed, he waved and sauntered over.

“Feeling better?”

“I’d feel better if I hadn’t given that blade to him in the first place.”

Shaking his head, Hawk appeared honestly concerned. “I do blame you for being foolish enough to give him a pointy object. But as it turns out none of could have known what was really going on in his head.”

“I heard some of what you were talking about. His apparent insanity was due to drugs or something?”

“Actually not drugs as such. There were chemical like properties to some of the substances, but from what the pod can determine, they actually appear to be more coherent plasma-based. The problem is, I recognize the molecular signature of most of the substances.” Hawk’s eyes narrowed. “As will you.”

He gestured and Preytor took his time standing. Walking carefully to the pod, Prey looked down at the display and thumbed to the display of the ongoing analysis. Once again, he felt himself forced into silence as the graph and numbers told a story he hadn’t wanted to hear. He had seen these readings before. Just never from a med pod display.”

“This isn’t a mistake, is it?”
Hawk’s eyes told him it wasn’t. “You are reading it correctly. What surprises me is that you and I are the only two people on this station that recognize this apparently.” He looked around as if to make sure no one was watching. “I’m sure when Doc sees this, he’ll know what and who these signatures belong to.”

Preytor removed the soft covering he had been wearing over his midsection that allowed the nanites to work in relative privacy. He no longer felt like sitting back, allowing the universe to continue working around him without his hands being active in the mix. “Shadows.”

Hawkinz nodded. “Shadows.”

“When is he going to be done?”

Ding! The pod chose that moment to ring, signaling it had completed it’s cycle, startling Hawkins slightly. It inserted the appropriate time release medication system to complete the recovery process, displayed the fact that it had done so, and cycled the lock in preparation to open.

“About now, apparently.”

1.15

1.16

In the darkness of space, many places were immune to the revealing nature of light. Quite often these destinations went unnoticed, some by accident, and some by design. One particular rogue planet fell into the latter category. It’s inhabitants through perseverance and technology tore this once lush green planet from its orbit and forced it loose into space, now centuries forgotten.

Human kind came to Sirus, and established itself rapidly. Exploration and expansion uncovered the remnants of the Nomad race and its vestiges. With strength of conviction, Humans overcame this threat, chasing the ancient Nomads to the far corners of Sirus. And those on their rogue planet watched in restrained curiosity.

With the discovery and advances in anti-matter weapon technology, Man opened new paths to exploration and destruction. The war against the Nomads was short, and in search of a new enemy, turned upon itself. For a short time combat raged in every system of the galaxy. In a last major effort, Nomads attempted to take advantage of this chaos, to launch a number of coordinated strikes in the House systems and select outlying areas. The clash of combat, technology and intensity produced a startling result. The Nexus.

Meeting head to head, the raw destructive power of this new Human technology combined in an unexpected way with the much older and unknown Nomad energy systems. It tore open space, to reveal a traversable passage to a system, outside of normal space. In Sirus, it took the form of an enormous swirling funnel, threatening and beautiful at the same time. At the center of the event horizon, a natural powerful hyper-jumphole was discovered. Each destructive encounter that created a tear, had a jumphole like one of these. And the skies of New York, New Tokyo and more now had a new fixture to be admired planetside.

Those on their lost, hidden rogue planet took notice. Before, the curiosity that was Man was an idle amusement, a drop in the well of time. But now, they had not only discovered what had been previously protected space, they smashed their way in from several directions. This would not do. Their relaxed attitude toward action was a failing however. Where they could hardly raise the interest to investigate directly this invasion into their system, Man began to pour through in large numbers, soon settling two of the inhabitable areas inside the nexus. Strong factions established themselves there, while two others quickly constructed bases. Battlelines within what was now called the Nexus were drawn, and daily small fleets of cruisers and gunboats from all sides, launched attacks upon each other.

Soon, reports of mysterious disappearances and deaths were filtering back to these bases, and down into Sirus. Details at first were sketchy and lacked any real substance. But soon the larger battle fleets were being accosted by squadrons of an unknown enemy utilizing a powerful weapon technology and organic ship design. There was no communication. They died as silently as they attacked, apparently uncaring as to victory or defeat. Scanners could not even discern a viable life form piloting these craft. They could never be tracked back to a source, nor did they ever only appear from a single direction. In comparison to the Nomads, they were much darker, much more powerful, and massive in number. Once the attacks began on the battlefleets, they became continuous.

Caches of these ships were soon and strangely uncovered in two locations in Sirus. With slight modification they were capable of being piloted by a human. Early attempts were made to infiltrate attacking squadrons, but to no avail. They appeared to know if they were in control of a similar craft, or if it was being piloted by an outsider. The Zoners discovered three different types of these ships within the Nexus itself. They would not reveal where the craft came from, only that they seemed to spawn there, as if being spontaneously created. Local pirates and Bounty Hunters alike agreed on a name for this new enemy, based on their methods. They were dubbed the Shadows.

The Nexus did contain one unusual and apparently inhabitable planet. Although seemingly impossible, it maintained an atmosphere and viable plant life. No sun warmed its surface, nor held it an orbit. This apparent rogue planet stood a silent sentinel over this mysterious area. While it appeared to be a likely place for settlement, it was avoided unconsciously, as if a command were implanted into the minds of all who viewed it to stay away. No attempt was made to colonize it. But as these attacks from the Shadows increased, a decision to call a truce and unite against this new foe was reached. The planet was designated Treatis Accord and it was decided a meeting would be held there, to organize a strategy as to how to deal with the Shadows. Of all the delegates who attended the meeting that day, none returned. No news escaped the event. No traces of the ships that had carried the delegates were ever discovered. It was as if the event were simply erased. The memory of the attempt remained, and all sides involved blamed one another. But everyone knew deep down, that there was something wrong with Treatis Accord, and it was thereafter shunned.

The attempt at a peace did not go ignored by the shadows. The attacks increased in frequency. Throughout it all however, although empty ships were indeed discovered within Sirus, no Shadow was ever encountered there. A violent stalemate had been reached, although it was an uneasy one. Unlike their dealings with the Nomads, Man found no sense of success or of even gaining ground against this new enemy. A gigantic game of cat and mouse had begun, and humankind soon discovered they were not the cat.

1.16

1.17

Goldie sat slumped in his chair, holding his beer to his forehead. Although after exiting the pod his physical ailments would have been taken care of, and any medications would make him feel better, the entire episode appeared to leave him mentally drained. His headache was most likely all in his head, so to speak.

Preytor motioned for a waitress to bring three more to the table. “You remember everything, huh?”

GH only nodded, slopping a little of his drink onto his hand.

I was at a loss at that moment. I wasn’t the one who had been stabbed or had really dealt with the insanity up close. I traded up as far as my ship was concerned, so in a backhanded way, part of the ordeal was good for me. There were questions swimming in my head, but they were all enjoying their time in the pool, and none wanted to get out and dry themselves off for conversation. So I sat and mulled, trying not to look accusing or threatening.

“I guess not everything, actually. I mean…” He paused to drink down the beer in his hand as the waitress fresh ones on the table. “…ah…. I mean, I remember the institution, the tests, the odd feelings and wacky thoughts. I remember the escape, and both ships, and stabbing you.” Looking extremely guilty, he sheepishly glanced up at Preytor for a moment. “I remember a long time in an escape pod outside the Nexus in New York. There is a big gap before that though.”

That peaked my interest. “A gap? You mean, in how you got to be in the escape pod?”

“Yeah. Before that, the last thing I remember was being in the Nexus, running missions for Trader’s against Xenos and Shadows. My Silver Streak was tricked out pretty nicely too.” He appeared lost in thought for a moment. “I wonder if it was destroyed.”

Once again, Preytor motioned for the waitress to bring more, even though GH and I hadn’t touched our new drinks. He drained half of his fresh one in a gulp. “We can always try the STS once we head out. Which will be when, Hawk?"

I shrugged. “Anytime now I imagine. I’ll talk with Jamie again before we go, but that will be relatively quick.”

“You know. I feel like I dreamt something..” There was a lost quality in Goldy’s eyes. “Not that I remember it. A feeling of a sort, or a memory of a feeling. Something just out of reach.”

Preytor punched him in the shoulder, almost knocking him out of his chair. “You’ll remember it, if you are meant to.”

“I’m sure you have other ships scattered through the systems.” I wanted to bring the conversation back to something lighter, giving Goldy a chance to move forward. “You think you are up to getting back into the pilot’s seat? Mind you, I’m not trying to get rid of you.” My beer finally looked like it needed to be consumed. I obliged. “The weapons chair is always open to you.”

Taking a deep breath, he held it in for a moment, and let it out slow through pursed lips. “Yah. I’ll take that chair for now. And I’ll hold off on testing the STS to find my Streak. Who knows where I might end up.”

Not wanting to let go of the fading situation, Preytor adjusted his chair so as to move closer to Goldie. The bar was relatively empty, but he didn’t look like he wanted anyone overhearing. “GH. If you don’t know it by now, the reason why you were crazy was due to some Shadow plasma-based stuff in your blood and brain.”

He looked dubious. “You got this information where?”

“The med pod was pretty clear on it.” Another beer was mortally wounded by Prey.

“Goldy, have you ever paid attention when you are being shot at?” I leaned in to be part of the conversation.

He looked genuinely annoyed. “Of course not.” The sarcasm was overly evident. “I just ignore it and let them destroy me. Of course I pay attention.”

“No. What I mean, is have you ever paid attention to your detection systems and power analysis stats from when you are being hit?”

He still looked annoyed. “I don’t usually have time. And I don’t usually get shot.”

“Damn straight.” Preytor was in total agreement.

I let a smile creep out. “Well I’ve taken a more laid back attitude. It might cost me in batteries and repair bots but it has paid off in the long run.”

“So that’s where you’ve gotten all that data from.” I had to believe it was a thoughtful expression on Preytor’s face. “I’d always assumed you’d bought or stolen it.”

“No better way to gather trustworthy information than to get it first hand.” By this time, the waitress was regularly bringing beers to the table. I was beginning to wonder who was picking up the tab on this one. “My point is that I and a few other special and observant individuals have seen a few patterns in the energy signature of the weapon the Shadows use.”

“So?” GH was becoming more interested then he wanted to admit.

“So, the chemical-like energies left inside your body, that the pod took care of, had these same signatures. Not identical, but too similar not to be the same. It was a coherent plasma… a solid-energy, if you will.”

“You think I was attacked by Shadows, and lost? Please!” Now he was indignant. “Shadows go down easier than Nomads.”

“Look. My scientist friend is going to be investigating the data soon enough. He will be confirming what Prey and I already know. I am just starting to suspect something. Something without foundation.”

Goldie seemed to soak that in. He decided to soak in some beer as well.

I knew Preytor was staring at me, waiting for me to finish what I was saying. I was waiting for Goldie to be ready for what I had to say next. Something else came to mind though.

“I know how I recognized the signature. How did you know it by sight Prey?”

He smiled that frightening smile. “I’ve been tapped into your datanet account for a long time now Hawk. Not that I’ve ever done anything with it other than reading up on what you find and your more exciting log entries.”

This did not surprise me all that much. I was more surprised by my lack of concern that I’d been hacked. Of course, this means others could have been tapped into my amateur investigations for a while. The more I thought about it, the more disturbed I got. “I’ll have to use encryption algorithms from now on, but I’ll set you up with access.”

“Or I could just have it hacked again.” Laughing, he swung to slam me in the shoulder.

Not looking to suffer that fate again, I dodged. I was learning. Peering at GH over the rim of my glass, I could see he was paying attention now.

“Goldie, I suspect that you were in direct contact with Shadows. Whether you were infected with some disease, or if what was in you was some kind of drug or control substance, I have no idea.” I finished the beer in my hand. “But I don’t think that it was accidental.”

“You say it’s gone?”

“The pod neutralized it. It found no remaining active traces.”

He mulled that over. “You didn’t answer the question. Is it gone?”

That moment in time seemed like an especially good moment to allow another beer to entertain my taste buds. “I honestly don’t know.”

1.17

sounds good!

1.18

By the time the turboshaft had reached the docking bay, Goldie had resigned himself to the fact that Preytor was not going to put him down, and he would just have to put up with the embarrassing situation of being slung over the warrior’s shoulder like a sack of laundry. He had admitted to himself that he had indeed consumed far too much beer, but was not ready to concede that to anyone else. Not being able to stand in the bar without swaying had been a dead giveaway though.

Preytor on the other hand, was ready to go for another few rounds. He had been thinking about that when he picked GH up, he thought about the cold replicated treats while GH pounded on his back and made a ruckus, and he mulled over potential sculptures he intended to make from the empties on the crew mess table while GH tried to logically convince him that he was O.K. to walk. He was just having too much fun. His friend was back, and not going to be out of his skull anymore. Preytor was a happy creature of mass destruction.

Alan looked positively bored to tears, but wide awake when Prey and GH approached. He gave the two a nod as they passed him on their way into the cargo bay of the LDP4, amused at the sight. It was a far different scene than when he had watched the same human being carried out of the ship earlier. All in all however, he was looking forward to an end to this guard duty, so he could start his recreation period.

Once inside, Prey put GH down and stood stock still as his friend wound up and punched him square in the stomach. Not waiting for a reaction, GH turned on his heel and strode heavily to the cockpit. Preytor chuckled to himself, debating on hitting the replicator there in the bay, or actually moving the few meters into the crew mess to use the one there.

Thunk! “Damnit all to hell! What’s the door code Prey?”

Now Prey couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He imagined that GH had walked solidly into the door, expecting it to open. “There isn’t a code that I know of. It should be unlocked.” The replicator in the bay had won the battle of his internal argument, so he moved around the ceiling high stacks of sealed crates of Gatelane parts to the secondary STS and replicator station. He only wished the replicators produced a variety of beers. He would have to look into reprogramming these, for he knew Hawkinz could only appreciate that.

Goldie repeatedly hit the panel to open the door, without result. As he turned to go get Preytor he heard the door slide open behind him. Thinking that possibly his friend was having more fun at his expense, he grumbled and turned his body to start through the door, looking back over his shoulder at the cargo bay. Several non-lethal methods of revenge were passing through his mind. Passing the threshold, he turned back to watch where he was going only to stop short, his nose inches from the barrel of a pistol.

“Close the door and don’t say a word. Or what happens next won’t concern you anymore.”

Goldie, never taking his eyes off the barrel of the weapon, reached behind him and fumbled slightly for the door panel. A few missed attempts and the door finally slid closed.

“Good. Now unless you can get this bucket moving, sit there and keep quiet.” The stranger in merchant’s clothes gestured towards the communications station. GH with only the slightest hesitation, sat silently.

As Preytor came through the cargo bay hatch into the crew mess, he saw the door slide closed behind Goldie. He put down his pile of beer cans and a box containing a molecular welder and some scrap metal on the table.

“Hey GH. You wanna be a sport and join me for a beer?”

Silence.

“Goldie. Come on. Don’t be pissed.”

More Silence. Shrugging it off he sat down heavily on one of the stools fastened to the floor, cracked upon a beer, and began to construct a frame that would hold a beer at mouth level for him and tilt the can to a drinking position when pressure was applied in just the correct manner. He figured such a device would save him immeasurable time while piloting, fighting, and just relaxing.

1.18

Wow looks like you put a lot of work into this...

1.19 Written by Preytor, thus the difference in Style


The merchant/thief spoke into the com at his ear, “Gamma 2, we have a slight delay.” He frowned to the garbled reply. “No it’s fine, I just can’t fly this thing. I need support... Roger.”

Damm, Goldie knew if he didn’t figure something out quick this problem was going to go from bad to worse. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon. He noticed a pulse rifle strapped to the bathroom door and then caught sight of an emergency axe on a bracket below the com panel behind him. There was an oversized canister of anti-fire foam also within reach next to the cockpit door. He remembered the Vibrablade no one had taken away from him, still deactivated in his pocket. If only he could find some kind of weapon.

An explosion rocked the ship, coming from somewhere nearby. Another, slightly closer tossed the ship in the other direction. Momentarily preoccupied with maintaining his balance, the hijacker steadied himself with his gun hand, while he held his com unit close, listening to instructions. Seeing his opportunity, GH slid to one knee, reached behind him to lift the axe from its bracket, and in one fluid movement flipped the wedge of steel, it arced through the air, coming to rest deep within the stranger’s skull.

GH knew he need to get Preytor and inform him and the station at once. As soon as the man hit the ground, GH’s memory flashed back images. Images so fast, so many. Heard noises, noises he’d heard before while in the nexus. Visions of his ship on fire and him feeling trapped; the voices were speaking to him. He came back to his senses and immediately went to get Preytor.

Preytor saw GH running at him in a fury, “Hey man, it was joke!!” Preytor stood suddenly, bracing himself in preparation against being run down by GH. This resulted in the beer holding machine he was making getting knocked over.

GH stopped just before reaching Preytor, “There’s Pirates here!!!”

“What? Here? What did you replicate up there GH?”

GH began to explain, “You'll find a guy dying from a headache in the cockpit, he called for support, and there’s others working with him to steal some ships.”

There were sirens going off and red lights flashing all over the docking bays.

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert.” The computer's female voice echoed loudly throughout the bays. Another voice came on the line, “Freelancer you do not have permission to leave dock2, please shut down your engines.”

The ship shook a little and they could hear explosions going off in different areas of the station.

The two looked at each other, “We gotta get Hawkins!”

As they open the hatch they saw Hawkins running toward the ship, “They blew up all exits to the Docking bays. We gotta knock out that control booth!”

Hawkins jumped into his seat and started up the ship. “ I’ll knock out the control booth with GH, Preytor can yo…,” Preytor wasn’t there.

GH heard a beeping noise, “Cargo bay door malfunction.” Checking the screen for the cargo bay scanners, he saw that Preytor had the door pried open and, with gas mask elegantly perched over his huge maw, was furiously shooting with a leftover CRAY .

“GH - shoot that booth!” Hawkins shouted.

Instantly the entire area of the wall where the booth once was looked like a giant deep cigarette burn, smoldering.

Hawkins grinned with glee, “Gotta love those CRAY’s!”


1.19

1.20 Written by Liasion, thus the difference in Style

Liaison brought the cup to his lips slowly, the liquid splashing lightly as he removed an ever so small portion, at this point simply wasting time more than intoxicating himself. Beside him a man of large porportions however was showing no such inhibitions, his voice barely understandable at this point.

It was ultimately the man who drove him off, after attempting to put a drunken arm around Liaison, but instead succeeded only in a miss, the result being his arm catching the back of Liaison's head which promptly smashed forward into his drink which slid across and began to soak a pile of papers. Dropping a couple coins and then some for his loss, Liaison decided to re-locate to wait the rest of his time. He was just heading through the doors when an explosion knocked him sideways. Catching his balance after a few steps he grabbed a piece of metal.
This isn't right, the Bombs aren't suppose to go off for another 20 minutes! IDIOTS! Most of the Ships won't have left yet! Gahhhhhh
Anger Built up in his mind, even more so as he heard another explosion, and then the lockdown message.
Joyyyy...
It had all started out as a simple plan to simply jack some new ships...

1.20

1.21 Written by Arnick thus the difference in style

The Introduction of Wraith

The bar it bustling with conversation and enthusiasim. Many strange and new faces around the place can be seen. What appears to be a man decked out in all black and a heavy cloak surrounding him and his head, walks fourth into the room. He takes a place at the bar. A man walks up next to him, he is slender and of geekish form in commoner clothing. "hey pal.. heheh why dont you take the robes off and be a lil more frienldy looking". A few in the corner start chuckling as their friend tries to make fun of the out of place new comer. In a cold raspy manner the cloaked man laughs. The bar quiets slightly then picks up again. The cloaked man drops two coins and as he does a narly bone like hand shows through. The slender man sees it and just stares. The strange man covers it again quickly, then slowly peers towards the slender man. Dim bluish cold eyes cut throught the dark hood, although only one can be truely seen, another dim radience shows from the hood but still covered. The slender man looks away quickly and orders a drink nervously. He then walks away back to his table. Later after the slender man leaves the cloak covered one follows a little ways behind. The slender man notices the cloaked man following him. He intentionally goes to an alley, to then pull his gun on the the cloaked one. He does so but when he goes to fire.. his gun jams. A cold laugh is heard down the alley way, "you wanted to see my face??' and you shall.." A scream cries out from the alley but is suddenly stopped. The cloaked man walks out of the alley way back towards the ship yard. The next day the mans body is found... nothing seems to have been done with it. It is just a limp lifeless body, somewhat slimmer though. An on going investigation is commencing on the planet.

1.21

1.22

Clear of the Station, I oriented myself and locked in on one of the stolen Fighters. It was an older Piranha, but still a good craft in a fight. Using a standard evasive pattern, it was making a run for the tradelane away from New York. Apparently heading for the rim systems was the plan. Unless it was a ruse.

“Someone get on the comm station and notify Pueblo that we are going after one of the stolen ships. And apologize for what we did to the door.”

Preytor had settled into the copilot’s seat, after his fun in the cargo bay, while Goldie was busying himself setting up the weapons station to his liking. I noted the controls rerouting from his panels, keeping track of all the new details. He wasn’t used to a multi-station ship.

Holding the ear pip in place with his hand, Prey hovered, momentarily lost in the absolute insane consol design of the ex-military craft. Noticing this, I reached over, and flipped a consol to a truncated comm panel. Prey waved thanks and got a ‘no prob’ wave in return. He thumbed the right channel open

“Hey there, Pueblo Station.. this is… uh…” Prey clicked the mute switch on the ear pip. “Hawk, what’s our ship designation?”

“It’s uh… wait… I have no clue.” I smacked my forehead with my palm. “Tell them it’s me.” I had to focus on the Piranha. Seeing the opportunity and my target was going to elude me, I took a gamble and a shot at the tradelane, disrupting it.

Seeing his console light up before him without his activation, Goldie was momentarily annoyed. “I would have done that for you.”

“Last minute decision.”

The fighter, now left without an active lane, kicked in the thrusters and banked hard 180 degrees, heading for the Copperton asteroid belt. He was either looking to lose me in the debris, or he was shooting for Ourey. Either way, he wasn’t using his cruise engines. This one had some modicum of talent. Opening the throttle all the way, and tapping the Order thruster into Lock, I began pursuit. The gap began to close, so it was obvious this ship still had a standard thruster. Well, not an Order thruster at any rate.

“Pueblo, this is Hawkinz freighter. We are in pursuit of stolen Piranha. Do we have permission to open fire when within range?” Prey paused. “Uh huh…. Uh Huh…. Okay.” He tapped the mute again. “That Jamie woman says break pursuit, LSF has been notified, and the door is coming out of your profits for the next two runs. She owns your ass.”

“I told you to apologize for that.” I eased the stick over, making for the station and tradelanes.

“She didn’t give me a chance.” He held the pip out to me. “You wanna talk to her?”

I leaned away from Prey. “Naah…. I think she sounds a little too pissed for me.”

My friend shrugged. “Pueblo, this is Hawkinz Freighter. Pursuit has been terminated. Target Piranha last seen heading for Ourey Base. Advice you notify any Bounties in the area that one in their midst isn’t who he seems.”

Goldie slammed the panel in frustration. “I don’t get to shoot anything?”

1.22

What's that server you're talking about?

1.23

Passing Battleship Rio Grande went smoothly. No patrols hailed us. Not a fighter, nor a freighter was to be seen. It was so peaceful, it was spooky. Preytor sat comfortably in his chair, possibly dozing, possibly just watching the scenery. After being denied his chance to destroy things, Goldie mumbled something about looking into “the mechanics” and left the cockpit. I locked onto the tradelane and let the auto-guidance handle the next hop. I then also kicked back, propping my feet up on the console.

“You know, this is just about guaranteed to be boring, Prey. I’m not planning any surprises, or hiding an ulterior motive. This is up to the Taus and back. I need to earn some credits fast.”

“There are more fun ways to earn credits fast.”

“Not in this freighter.”

He leaned towards me. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I guessed. And I still think it had something to do with shooting stuff.”

Leaning back, he shrugged. “It does have to do with shooting stuff. You can go pick on some Liberty Rogues.”

“You want me to take this bucket fishing?” I sat up straight.

“Whassamatta? You don’t think you can hold it together?”

I thought about that for a long moment. I had no doubts about my piloting skills. I just wasn’t sure about using this freighter in such a manner. This was no ordinary freighter though. With the CRAYs, LibRogues would be no match at all.

“So… What. Head over to Alcatraz and make them regret their chosen faction allegiance?”

Preytor nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“You couldn’t have said something before we ended up at the Kepler gate?”

The ship decelerated out of the tradelane, approaching the Kepler jumpgate. A pair of Samura transports and their escorts were in line for the jump. I looked at Prey, and swung the ship around to face the lane they had just exited. He locked on and hit the dock command key.

“Ourey base is much closer. And I hate Xenos much more than LibRogues.”

“I can see why, all things considered.” Preytor stood and moved to the replicator, calling up a half a dozen beers. He tossed three to me, one at a time. “You never did tell me what happened to the Mercs you were running with. I never imagined you quitting any organization you got your talons into.”

Taking a long pull on the first one, I adroitly placed the other two in the beer holders without looking. “I didn’t quit. I still am Rogue 15. As the war got closer, and the Outcasts had extended their reach deep into Liberty, all hell broke loose. Then Rogue Leader vanished.”

“Vanished?”

“Without a trace. I thought I caught sight of his freighter once or twice on the channels, but it never panned out. I had gotten stuck deep in Rheinland territory, roped into a never ending series of protection and eradication contracts, then the war came.” Hawk took another long drink. “All my money was tied up in back payments, and one day, I was headed back to New Berlin, and I got jumped by a Rhein patrol of Battleships and Cruisers. That was after I temporarily lost the Eagle to the Unioners. I had just moved into a Falcon. I didn’t have the right markings, so they reduced my assets to an escape pod. I barely had time to get into that.”

“You should have contacted me.”

Shaking my head, I tried to avoid the look of tired sadness that I felt was there. “You didn’t know what it was like. I remember you had that lucrative protection gig goin on with Liberty, and you had some undercover work up in the Omicrons with the Corsairs before it all fell apart. Rhein got hit pretty hard. It took me months to hop enough Freighters to get back to Colorado and Pueblo. And they were locked up tighter than you can imagine. I got in, and holed up till the dust settled. Jamie gave me a Rhino, and I puttered around collecting data, keeping a low profile.”

“With the new ship designs that were introduced throughout the systems, and the chaotic activity I was keeping any eye on in Gamma, you’re right. I was pretty busy.” Preytor stretched. We had left the lane, and before I could reach for it, Prey keyed the dock command for the next lane. “The economy went to pot and prices went through the roof.”

“I couldn’t believe it. No one was trading, less they knew you real well. No one was selling any of the older ships either. It took a few months before I found that the only stockyards left were in Ringworld. And all the gates to that were gone. Till I explored the Nexus, that is.” I shook my head again. “I’m still amazed they revitalized that old graveyard of a system.”

“I guess when those old base caretakers started hearing how crazy everything had gotten, they put aside their personal differences and agreed to get along, under the circumstances.” Prey had finished his beer, and started a second. “They did do a nice job of making it look unified tho.”

Once again, the tradelane spit them out. I could see repair crews out working on the bay doors. He waved at the Operations deck, although he knew they would never see, and called up the Colorado system map. Zooming in on Ourey, I marked it on my Hud and locked on the ghost beacon. The cruise engines would take them the rest of the way, automatically avoiding as much debris as possible.

“I was lucky Jamie had an old Rhino around. But it got me everywhere. And I tell you, everyone was stunned. The opening of the Nexus, the Shadows, the privatizing of most of the protection organizations, it was like everyone in the lanes was a zombie. No one attacked, no one traded, no one hailed. Even pirates kept to themselves.”

“I admit…” Prey stretched. “I was a bit preoccupied with taking out Bounty Hunters for the Corsairs. At the time, it was the only way to get into their good graces for a line on Tizona production secrets.”

“That’s why you went dark?” I began to laugh. “I always thought it was for the money! Playing both sides of the fence.”

Preytor joined me in chuckling. “Nope. Actually most of the money went to Corsair victims outside Gamma.”

“That is Hilarious! Taking their money to kill Bounty scum, only to give it to people they attacked. Only you,” I reached over to slap Prey on the shoulder. “Only you.”

Goldie chose that moment to come back into the cockpit. He looked back and forth between the two in the front seats, looked at the weapons console to the local ship display, reached out and selected a passing neutral Xeno ship, and tripped the fire control switch.

The comm sparked to life. “Watch it Freelancer. If you don’t…:

As the target banked around, GH trained the guns on it and removed it from the sky in a shower of fragmented metal. The other ships in the squadron of Xenos broke their formation to acquire a firing solution on the freighter. Surprised, I pulled up, swinging the ship to bear on the nearest fighter. Goldie quickly took it out and locked in on another. Preytor activated the tractors to pull in the loot now floating free.

Noticing a change in the way the ship handled, and the lack of beer that should have been knocked from the cans, I glanced over my shoulder at GH.

“What were you doing back there?”

Goldie fragmented another Starflier and trained the CRAYs on a Startracker. “Fixing things.”

There was no pressure from the strong maneuvers I was putting the ship through. Inside the cockpit everything was smooth and gentle. The gravometrics compensated perfectly, almost intuitively.

“Fixing what?”

“Things. Can you focus on flying please?”

Another Xeno went down in flames. Portions of the craft bounced harmlessly off the shields. I wasn’t attempting to follow the enemy fighters. Instead I brought the nose around to catch a ship exiting an attack run. I watched our shield monitor, allowing us to be hit occasionally. I knew these light fighters could fly circles around us. The key was to hit them hard and fast as they either began their run or finished it. And of course, to avoid the huge chunks of debris floating around.

“It feels smoother. You played with the artificial gravity?”

GH took out two more that were beginning a wide bank. “Among other things.” The tractor sounded once again.

“Tractor beam, failure.” The computer notified everyone softly that the bay was full of loot, and by exemption, was only picking up weaponry at this point.

The last two Xenos came in together. Goldie fired at one, changing target lock to fire at the other before the CRAYs hit the first. Both exploded brilliantly, dropping missiles and guns for Preytor to pick up. With no other available targets within range, I pulled to a stop.

“Look. You gonna tell me what you were doing to my ship?”

Goldie turned to me, clearly annoyed. “You two were drinking it up, havin a ball. So I poked around to see what was frelled up. I knew there had to be problems, every time you took a turn, it shook like it wanted to fall apart.”

I scratched my ear for a moment, thinking. It wasn’t like GH was doing anything wrong. I shrugged and smiled, taking my last closed beer and tossed it to Goldie.

“Does this mean you want to go fix stuff, rather than drink beer?”

Gh cracked the top and took a deep swig. “Aaaah.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You crazy?”

1.23

1.24

Several dozen cans of beer later, the floor completely covered with empties, Hawkinz was having difficulty avoiding the largest chunks of debris. The sky was littered with loot and scrap metal, and all three in the cockpit appeared to have a continuous case of the giggles. Goldie was slightly sloppier, but none the less lethal. Preytor was taking his time, sorting through the loot for what to take, occasionally stealing GH’s target lock on a useless piece of loot, making a shot go wild and destroying the loot, instead of hitting a Xeno. More than once, a Bounty Hunter ship got caught in the crossfire, forcing them to remove both Bounty’s and Xenos indiscriminately. In fact, Goldie had long since ceased targeting specific craft. He now simply automatically locked on to the closest computer tagged Unfriendly.

At one point, Hawkinz realized he had ceased all forward motion, and had simply been swinging the ship around to allow for firing solutions. He burst out laughing when it occurred to him that he had no idea how long he had been just sitting there in space.

“Whew… How long haven’t we been moving?”

Rolling in his chair, Goldie burst out into peals of laughter. “We aren’t moving?”

“I thought this was on purpose.” Preytor was leaning forward for a better view out the cockpit canopy.

“I think it’s time we got going, and got rid of these Gatelane parts.”

GH couldn’t stop laughing. “What Gatelane parts?”

Preytor howled. “You’re done my friend.”

“I dinnit do nothing.” He targeted an innocent piece of debris and obliterated it. “See? I dinnit do nothing again!”

Hawkinz keyed in a waypoint sequence to the Kepler gate. Locking it in, he activated the cruise and stood to stretch. Noticing the cans covering the floor, he kicked some aside to make his way to the cockpit door. “We gonna just dump these?”

“That would be to wasteful. Why not throw them in the recycler like we should?” Preytor grabbed an armful from around him, and made his way to the small hatch below the replicator. After placing the ones he was holding inside, he began to pick more up off the floor and toss them through the hatch.

Waving at the cans, Hawk made his way slightly unsteadily to the cargo bay to look through what they had picked up on their foray. Though his vision swam slightly, he could make out a few house weapons among the piles. There were even a few enhancers that would fetch a nice price. He might be able to pay off Pueblo and still make a small profit after this run. Already he was thinking of getting rid of the LDP4 for something much sleeker and more toward his combat fancy. He never really did enjoy the trading lifestyle. Of course though, that meant making large amounts of money. Or getting back to RingWorld for an Eagle.

The lack of sleep lately hit Hawk like a club as he made his way back to the bridge. Being drunk didn’t help any either. He stuck his head in the cockpit, watching Preytor pick up the last of the cans. Goldie had stopped laughing, and was blurrily focusing his attention on his panel.

“Prey, I’m going to sleep for a short time. Or pass out.” He nodded against the door frame. “Wake me if any huge problems arise, otherwise.. can you keep us on course for the construction site?”

Preytor dusted his hands off, although there was no dust to remove. “I can do that. I’ll try to give you the smoothest ride possible.”

Hawkins decided now was as good a time as any to finally see the Captain’s Quarters. He just wished he was in a condition to remember what it would look like. Waking up there in a few hours might be confusing. But he wasn’t all that worried. Not like he could go far on this ship.

1.24

1.25 Written by Arnick thus the difference in style
Sightings of this "Wraith" character have been mostly around the Nexus and Freemans base. He talks to a man then leaves quietly, not doing a thing but talking to the man. Some have noticed less shoadows around the zoner base and the ones that are, are on edge and more aggressive and have been seen in large groups. Some seem to think that ever since this "Wraith" showed up that less and less shadows are being spotted. Perhaps this... thing is a skilled pilot or maybe just lucky if he is killing these beings. Those that were unfortuante to come in his way have turned up as dust. In the ship debris, some ship log scamatics show up.. perhaps they are that of the Wraith's but in those some have seen that a rare weapon has shown up.. the Nomad Annihilator, one of the most devestating weapons in the sector. Whom ever this Wraith is he is one to be cautious around. Some reports have even gone to Liberty but not much further than that.
1.25