Blood on the Horizon (Reimagined)
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MarkWarrior
Well-known member
This is one of the other ways I considered writing out the Blood on the Horizon original.
And turn them into his loyal minions.
Chickens as loyal crew would do,too.
Alternate Beginnings 2
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Unnamed world, 3015
"I hate that thing," I coughed violently as I glared at the cryo-pod while rubbing away the cold.
Grabbing the clothing I had stored away in this section of the Last of Us, I got dressed, the cargo pants and flannel bringing some warmth as the socks and boots insulated my feet from the cold.
"That's better," I poured a small cup of my precious coffee stash and sipped at it as the warm liquid began to heat my body. "Now it's time to check and see how the Chickens fared."
Leaving the Dropship, I walked the quarter mile, nodding to myself as I saw how the wild versions of the crops I had been growing took over my previously nicely kept fields.
"And there are the chickens," I absentmindedly noted that they had increased in overall size before pushing on into the cabin. "Holy shit! I stumbled backward as a chicken the size of a turkey looked at me from where it had been eating away at a small bit of feed that I had left in the cabin before I went into stasis.
"You're definitely going to be dinner. And probably tomorrow's meal too," I clapped my hands together and slipped some gloves on before grabbing the chicken by the feet.
–
–
"So, a lack of any major predators has meant that the chickens were able to grow to an extraordinary size," I bit into the fried chicken breast that was in my hands. "And the flavor is like nothing I've had."
I shrugged and continued eating my meal. The rest of the chicken pieces were safely stored in the refrigerated section of the cabin I had built.
"The Cabin has held up incredibly well in the ten years I was in stasis," I continued dictating to the voice recorder on my phone. "There isn't a lot I'll have to reinforce, but what little damage there is can be easily fixed. I'll clear out the beginnings of the field this week and then go explore some more. I've got some fairly decent maps, but I want to see if there's any chance some of the Manassas' crew took one of the small craft that was missing from the hanger."
I stood up and brought my dishes to my small sink before washing them and setting them aside to dry.
"Five years of farming, and ten years of stasis," I looked at the markings I had made on the wall to indicate the months that had gone by. "I think I made the right decision to come here instead of trying to get the Manassas working."
I moved over to the bed and eased myself in with a sigh of relief, pulling the SLDF standard-issue blanket over me before falling asleep.
"Come on, Bobby B," I climbed up onto the Warhammer, clearing off the ivy-like vines that had grown onto the machine. The green SLDF standard paint blending in fairly well. "Let's get you awake and running. We've got some exploring to do."
Running through the steps, I brought the mech online and grinned as Betty began telling me that the systems began working again.
Booting up the mapping software that was included in the mech's programs, I looked over the old maps I had taken before going to sleep and nodded. It was time to see if there was anything else worth finding on this planet out in the middle of nowhere.
Flipping the weapons suite offline, I pushed the mech into a moderate pace and speed and began to retrace my previous mapping session steps. I wanted to know everything about my new home."
–
–
"Well, we've got some sort of mineral deposits," I said as I flipped through the magscan. "No clue what they are, but they're there."
Making a note on the map, I looked up and grinned. So there were predators on this planet. They just lived in a different area than my cabin.
"Looks like I get to have a bear skin rug," I cycled the mech down into an idle before grabbing a rifle and slinging it over m shoulder. "And where there's a predator, there's a prey animal around."
I followed the massive brown bear from a safe distance as it seemingly tracked some sort of prey animal, the five meter long bear pausing periodically to sniff the ground and other areas before continuing on.
"What are you tracking?" I asked from my perch in a tree that overlooked the entire area, using the rifle's scope to try and see if there were anything ahead of the bear that I was missing.
"Oh," I removed my eye from the scope to look at a giant elk. "Looks like we're eating good for a while, I tucked the laser rifle into my shoulder and lined up the sights, gently squeezing the trigger before swapping to the bear. "I'm gonna need Bobby B," I muttered as I turned to go grab the Warhammer. The equipment I had slung over its shoulder before leaving would be needed for this.
–
–
"Whelp, I'm pretty sure that hands would have been a better option," I smirked as the two animals hung from the 'Hammer's shoulders. "But I think this works."
"I need a picture," I made sure to get a solid picture of both animals and their comparative sizes to the 'mech. "No one would believe me back home. They'd think it was photoshopped or something."
Climbing up the ladder and back into the cockpit of the Bobby B, I began a slow walk back to my camp. I had some new meat to try.
"I hate that thing," I coughed violently as I glared at the cryo-pod while rubbing away the cold.
Grabbing the clothing I had stored away in this section of the Last of Us, I got dressed, the cargo pants and flannel bringing some warmth as the socks and boots insulated my feet from the cold.
"That's better," I poured a small cup of my precious coffee stash and sipped at it as the warm liquid began to heat my body. "Now it's time to check and see how the Chickens fared."
Leaving the Dropship, I walked the quarter mile, nodding to myself as I saw how the wild versions of the crops I had been growing took over my previously nicely kept fields.
"And there are the chickens," I absentmindedly noted that they had increased in overall size before pushing on into the cabin. "Holy shit! I stumbled backward as a chicken the size of a turkey looked at me from where it had been eating away at a small bit of feed that I had left in the cabin before I went into stasis.
"You're definitely going to be dinner. And probably tomorrow's meal too," I clapped my hands together and slipped some gloves on before grabbing the chicken by the feet.
–
–
"So, a lack of any major predators has meant that the chickens were able to grow to an extraordinary size," I bit into the fried chicken breast that was in my hands. "And the flavor is like nothing I've had."
I shrugged and continued eating my meal. The rest of the chicken pieces were safely stored in the refrigerated section of the cabin I had built.
"The Cabin has held up incredibly well in the ten years I was in stasis," I continued dictating to the voice recorder on my phone. "There isn't a lot I'll have to reinforce, but what little damage there is can be easily fixed. I'll clear out the beginnings of the field this week and then go explore some more. I've got some fairly decent maps, but I want to see if there's any chance some of the Manassas' crew took one of the small craft that was missing from the hanger."
I stood up and brought my dishes to my small sink before washing them and setting them aside to dry.
"Five years of farming, and ten years of stasis," I looked at the markings I had made on the wall to indicate the months that had gone by. "I think I made the right decision to come here instead of trying to get the Manassas working."
I moved over to the bed and eased myself in with a sigh of relief, pulling the SLDF standard-issue blanket over me before falling asleep.
"Come on, Bobby B," I climbed up onto the Warhammer, clearing off the ivy-like vines that had grown onto the machine. The green SLDF standard paint blending in fairly well. "Let's get you awake and running. We've got some exploring to do."
Running through the steps, I brought the mech online and grinned as Betty began telling me that the systems began working again.
Booting up the mapping software that was included in the mech's programs, I looked over the old maps I had taken before going to sleep and nodded. It was time to see if there was anything else worth finding on this planet out in the middle of nowhere.
Flipping the weapons suite offline, I pushed the mech into a moderate pace and speed and began to retrace my previous mapping session steps. I wanted to know everything about my new home."
–
–
"Well, we've got some sort of mineral deposits," I said as I flipped through the magscan. "No clue what they are, but they're there."
Making a note on the map, I looked up and grinned. So there were predators on this planet. They just lived in a different area than my cabin.
"Looks like I get to have a bear skin rug," I cycled the mech down into an idle before grabbing a rifle and slinging it over m shoulder. "And where there's a predator, there's a prey animal around."
I followed the massive brown bear from a safe distance as it seemingly tracked some sort of prey animal, the five meter long bear pausing periodically to sniff the ground and other areas before continuing on.
"What are you tracking?" I asked from my perch in a tree that overlooked the entire area, using the rifle's scope to try and see if there were anything ahead of the bear that I was missing.
"Oh," I removed my eye from the scope to look at a giant elk. "Looks like we're eating good for a while, I tucked the laser rifle into my shoulder and lined up the sights, gently squeezing the trigger before swapping to the bear. "I'm gonna need Bobby B," I muttered as I turned to go grab the Warhammer. The equipment I had slung over its shoulder before leaving would be needed for this.
–
–
"Whelp, I'm pretty sure that hands would have been a better option," I smirked as the two animals hung from the 'Hammer's shoulders. "But I think this works."
"I need a picture," I made sure to get a solid picture of both animals and their comparative sizes to the 'mech. "No one would believe me back home. They'd think it was photoshopped or something."
Climbing up the ladder and back into the cockpit of the Bobby B, I began a slow walk back to my camp. I had some new meat to try.
Chapter 15
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 15
"One of these things is not like the other," I muttered as I looked closer at the Messenger. "Something is off, externally, it looks like the other two, but it feels like the proportions are all wrong."
The third aerodyne was just chunky, it was thicker in some places and reinforced in ways that seemed odd. If I were just a regular dockworker, I would probably be too busy to give the ship the close inspection that I was giving it now. But I wasn't a regular dockworker, and I had all of the time in the world to get a closer look.
"So let's see what you're hiding," I cycled the airlock and waited until the doors opened before stepping into a spacious corridor.
The Interior of the cargo bay was very similar to that of the Buccaneers that were docked with the Jumpship. But everything else was different. The crew quarters were larger than those on the other two dropships and all had weapons stashed in some hidden compartments. And there was something else off about the internals, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"It's obvious that this isn't the same model as the other two," I looked around the bridge. "But I don't know what else is hidden here."
I sighed and tried to activate some of the computer terminals, only to fail at guessing any of the passwords.
"I'll come back and try again later," I made to leave before I saw the captain's quarters. "But, I haven't checked in there yet."
The door slid open with a hiss as I looked around at the lavishly decorated space.
"Fuckin' nobles," I shook my head at the obvious owner before beginning my search for anything useful or any potential 'noteputers that might have been left behind. The Closet merely contained some uniforms, while the rest of the quarters seemed to have been cleaned out when the dropship was left behind.
"Ugh," I let myself fall back onto the full bed, the nice sheets and comforter barely softening the feeling of something hard tucked underneath the foam pad that covered the mattress itself.
Pulling the silk sheets off, I pulled the foam pad up enough to see a 'noteputer stashed underneath, the machine carefully placed so that it wouldn't show from a regular inspection.
I stroked my beard as I grabbed the machine and tucked it into my small pack, I would find out what information was on there later. I needed to get back to working on my way out of here.
Two weeks later…
"Why aren't you working?!" I slammed my fist down on the desk, my gut roiling in rage as I glared at yet another failed simulation.
Standing up, I went to hurl the computer against the wall before I caught myself.
"Deep breaths," I inhaled through my nose and counted to ten before exhaling. "It's just a machine. It's just doing its job."
After some time just breathing, I sat back down and tweaked the runtimes again before standing up and leaving the room. I needed a break from the monotony of programming, and I knew just the way to do it.
–
–
"All systems nominal," Betty informed me as the simulators began to run.
"Let's go crazy this time," I grinned, even if this simulation was designed to be impossible, I was going to be having fun this time.
As soon as the drop bay doors opened, I shifted the stock Warhammer to full speed and narrowly evaded a stream of LRMs. An Archer Longbow radiating heat from where they were perched on a hill.
Squeezing off one of my PPCs, I grinned as the Longbow flinched back, the man-made lightning carving away armor as I cycled and fired my other PPC, the second bolt hitting the joint of the Archer's arm and cutting it away from the heavy 'mech.
Sliding to a stop, I shifted into the trees, throwing off some of the missiles and scattering the rest on my shoulders as the jungle foliage was shifted by the explosions.
Peeking out of the trees, I squeezed the trigger on both of the long-range weapons that I had, one of the beams going wide, while the other carved further into the Longbow before finding an ammunition bin, the explosion throwing the Assault 'mech to the ground and marking the machine as 'dead' to my sensors, leaving me to face the more serious opponent of the Archer that had disappeared.
Ducking underneath the battle fist of the other heavy, I twisted my torso and carved away armor with my medium lasers before my SRMs dug into the holes made by the lasers.
Then, with a sharp twist of my sticks, I shoved the barrel of my PPC into the cockpit of the Archer before squeezing the trigger. The head vanished as I tore myself away from the wreckage and spun to face the Atlas II that was waiting for me.
The LB-10X slug shattered sections of my armor, while the lasers carved away at my torso, alarms screeching at me until I turned them off.
Ducking underneath one of the massive fists of the 100-tonner, I overrode some safeties and aimed for the delicate knee, the armor covering the limb disappearing as my 'Hammer began to overheat while I cycled my lasers to fire again.
"Got you," I grinned as I shoved the Atlas II back, the knee failing as I stomped my foot into the skull-shaped cockpit.
Then a Gauss slug punched through what was left of my armor and cored my mech, the lone Highlander standing over me as if taunting me from the grave.
"Scenario failed," Betty alerted me.
"I know," I replied, the smile still not leaving my face. "But I still killed an Atlas with a Warhammer. It's a good day."
As I was climbing out of the sim pod, I remembered why I had gotten in. "Whelp, I've had my fun," I sighed. "Might as well see if I can figure out how to finally get those runtimes fixed.
"One of these things is not like the other," I muttered as I looked closer at the Messenger. "Something is off, externally, it looks like the other two, but it feels like the proportions are all wrong."
The third aerodyne was just chunky, it was thicker in some places and reinforced in ways that seemed odd. If I were just a regular dockworker, I would probably be too busy to give the ship the close inspection that I was giving it now. But I wasn't a regular dockworker, and I had all of the time in the world to get a closer look.
"So let's see what you're hiding," I cycled the airlock and waited until the doors opened before stepping into a spacious corridor.
The Interior of the cargo bay was very similar to that of the Buccaneers that were docked with the Jumpship. But everything else was different. The crew quarters were larger than those on the other two dropships and all had weapons stashed in some hidden compartments. And there was something else off about the internals, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"It's obvious that this isn't the same model as the other two," I looked around the bridge. "But I don't know what else is hidden here."
I sighed and tried to activate some of the computer terminals, only to fail at guessing any of the passwords.
"I'll come back and try again later," I made to leave before I saw the captain's quarters. "But, I haven't checked in there yet."
The door slid open with a hiss as I looked around at the lavishly decorated space.
"Fuckin' nobles," I shook my head at the obvious owner before beginning my search for anything useful or any potential 'noteputers that might have been left behind. The Closet merely contained some uniforms, while the rest of the quarters seemed to have been cleaned out when the dropship was left behind.
"Ugh," I let myself fall back onto the full bed, the nice sheets and comforter barely softening the feeling of something hard tucked underneath the foam pad that covered the mattress itself.
Pulling the silk sheets off, I pulled the foam pad up enough to see a 'noteputer stashed underneath, the machine carefully placed so that it wouldn't show from a regular inspection.
I stroked my beard as I grabbed the machine and tucked it into my small pack, I would find out what information was on there later. I needed to get back to working on my way out of here.
Two weeks later…
"Why aren't you working?!" I slammed my fist down on the desk, my gut roiling in rage as I glared at yet another failed simulation.
Standing up, I went to hurl the computer against the wall before I caught myself.
"Deep breaths," I inhaled through my nose and counted to ten before exhaling. "It's just a machine. It's just doing its job."
After some time just breathing, I sat back down and tweaked the runtimes again before standing up and leaving the room. I needed a break from the monotony of programming, and I knew just the way to do it.
–
–
"All systems nominal," Betty informed me as the simulators began to run.
"Let's go crazy this time," I grinned, even if this simulation was designed to be impossible, I was going to be having fun this time.
As soon as the drop bay doors opened, I shifted the stock Warhammer to full speed and narrowly evaded a stream of LRMs. An Archer Longbow radiating heat from where they were perched on a hill.
Squeezing off one of my PPCs, I grinned as the Longbow flinched back, the man-made lightning carving away armor as I cycled and fired my other PPC, the second bolt hitting the joint of the Archer's arm and cutting it away from the heavy 'mech.
Sliding to a stop, I shifted into the trees, throwing off some of the missiles and scattering the rest on my shoulders as the jungle foliage was shifted by the explosions.
Peeking out of the trees, I squeezed the trigger on both of the long-range weapons that I had, one of the beams going wide, while the other carved further into the Longbow before finding an ammunition bin, the explosion throwing the Assault 'mech to the ground and marking the machine as 'dead' to my sensors, leaving me to face the more serious opponent of the Archer that had disappeared.
Ducking underneath the battle fist of the other heavy, I twisted my torso and carved away armor with my medium lasers before my SRMs dug into the holes made by the lasers.
Then, with a sharp twist of my sticks, I shoved the barrel of my PPC into the cockpit of the Archer before squeezing the trigger. The head vanished as I tore myself away from the wreckage and spun to face the Atlas II that was waiting for me.
The LB-10X slug shattered sections of my armor, while the lasers carved away at my torso, alarms screeching at me until I turned them off.
Ducking underneath one of the massive fists of the 100-tonner, I overrode some safeties and aimed for the delicate knee, the armor covering the limb disappearing as my 'Hammer began to overheat while I cycled my lasers to fire again.
"Got you," I grinned as I shoved the Atlas II back, the knee failing as I stomped my foot into the skull-shaped cockpit.
Then a Gauss slug punched through what was left of my armor and cored my mech, the lone Highlander standing over me as if taunting me from the grave.
"Scenario failed," Betty alerted me.
"I know," I replied, the smile still not leaving my face. "But I still killed an Atlas with a Warhammer. It's a good day."
As I was climbing out of the sim pod, I remembered why I had gotten in. "Whelp, I've had my fun," I sighed. "Might as well see if I can figure out how to finally get those runtimes fixed.
Alternate Beginnings 3
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Alternate beginnings 3
Unknown world, 3049
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?" A voice broke into my dreams as I stumbled awake.
"Any chance you can repeat that?" I asked after I woke myself up with my last cup of coffee. "I'm afraid you caught me while I was asleep. Thirty-six hour days are killer on a sleep cycle." I yawned.
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?"
I started awake as the realization hit me. Even if they were Clanners, real, live people would be here, and soon.
"This is Mark Hull, I bid myself and my Warhammer to defend this world," I finally replied, leaving my cabin and clearing off the new vines that had grown onto the mech while I was in stasis.
The modified 'mech struggled to start at first, the years having been somewhat unkind to it as the weather had beaten it down, but in the end, the fusion engine rumbled to life as I stripped down to my shorts and hooked the neurohelmet and cooling vest into the bipedal war machine.
–
–
A Summoner stepped out of the distant trees, my eyes telling me what 'mech I was facing even if the Warhammer did not.
"This is going to go poorly," I sighed as Ia pair of lasers narrowly missed, carving burn marks into the my overgrown fields and setting small fires among the dried out corn.
With a twist, I snapped off a PPC bolt, the shot going wide and tearing a tree in half as a slightly smaller pair of beams melted off armor, a small group of missiles detonating against my armor.
I moved closer, my SRMs getting plucked from the sky as I alternated fire with my PPCs, the lack of practice obvious in my lack of accuracy.
I finally reached short range, and forgoing any subtlety, I slammed the throttle down, accelerating from my moderate pace to max in a few short seconds, and then tucking down, I slammed my 'mech's right shoulder into the Summoner.
As the Clan 'mech rocked back, I slapped the button that was carefully labeled "do not touch!", all of my weapons carving away armor and revealing the reactor on the other 'mech before a handful of my double heat sinks failed, my mech shutting down from the excess heat as sweat dripped off my bare torso.
"You fight well for a freebirth," Marthe said as she kicked over my unresponsive 'Hammer and pointed her lasers at my cockpit. "I hereby claim you as my bondsman, Freebirth Hull. Surrender your 'mech and this world to us."
"Powering down now," I replied, shutting down the Warhammer before popping the hatch, the cool air washing over me as I pulled a fresh pair of jeans and flannel from my footlocker and onto my body.
"Well," I sighed and pulled out a cigar I had held onto from the Manassas. "Guess this is as good a time as any."
Lighting the cigar, I puffed on it as a handful of dropships began their descent while a pair of Elementals climbed up onto my 'Hammer.
"Come with us, Bondsman," one of them spat.
"One minute," I replied. "I'm just enjoying my last moment of freedom."
After I finished my cigar, the Elementals escorted me back to the Last of Us while a salvage team began working over my 'mech.
"This dropship is ancient," A woman in typical mechwarrior gear said as I was shoved aboard. "As is the signal that we received when we arrived in this system."
She turned to face me. "You are clearly a survivor from the SLS Manassas. The graves nearby indicate that you are the last to remain. So tell me, relic of the past. How have you survived where others did not?"
Unknown world, 3049
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?" A voice broke into my dreams as I stumbled awake.
"Any chance you can repeat that?" I asked after I woke myself up with my last cup of coffee. "I'm afraid you caught me while I was asleep. Thirty-six hour days are killer on a sleep cycle." I yawned.
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?"
I started awake as the realization hit me. Even if they were Clanners, real, live people would be here, and soon.
"This is Mark Hull, I bid myself and my Warhammer to defend this world," I finally replied, leaving my cabin and clearing off the new vines that had grown onto the mech while I was in stasis.
The modified 'mech struggled to start at first, the years having been somewhat unkind to it as the weather had beaten it down, but in the end, the fusion engine rumbled to life as I stripped down to my shorts and hooked the neurohelmet and cooling vest into the bipedal war machine.
–
–
A Summoner stepped out of the distant trees, my eyes telling me what 'mech I was facing even if the Warhammer did not.
"This is going to go poorly," I sighed as Ia pair of lasers narrowly missed, carving burn marks into the my overgrown fields and setting small fires among the dried out corn.
With a twist, I snapped off a PPC bolt, the shot going wide and tearing a tree in half as a slightly smaller pair of beams melted off armor, a small group of missiles detonating against my armor.
I moved closer, my SRMs getting plucked from the sky as I alternated fire with my PPCs, the lack of practice obvious in my lack of accuracy.
I finally reached short range, and forgoing any subtlety, I slammed the throttle down, accelerating from my moderate pace to max in a few short seconds, and then tucking down, I slammed my 'mech's right shoulder into the Summoner.
As the Clan 'mech rocked back, I slapped the button that was carefully labeled "do not touch!", all of my weapons carving away armor and revealing the reactor on the other 'mech before a handful of my double heat sinks failed, my mech shutting down from the excess heat as sweat dripped off my bare torso.
"You fight well for a freebirth," Marthe said as she kicked over my unresponsive 'Hammer and pointed her lasers at my cockpit. "I hereby claim you as my bondsman, Freebirth Hull. Surrender your 'mech and this world to us."
"Powering down now," I replied, shutting down the Warhammer before popping the hatch, the cool air washing over me as I pulled a fresh pair of jeans and flannel from my footlocker and onto my body.
"Well," I sighed and pulled out a cigar I had held onto from the Manassas. "Guess this is as good a time as any."
Lighting the cigar, I puffed on it as a handful of dropships began their descent while a pair of Elementals climbed up onto my 'Hammer.
"Come with us, Bondsman," one of them spat.
"One minute," I replied. "I'm just enjoying my last moment of freedom."
After I finished my cigar, the Elementals escorted me back to the Last of Us while a salvage team began working over my 'mech.
"This dropship is ancient," A woman in typical mechwarrior gear said as I was shoved aboard. "As is the signal that we received when we arrived in this system."
She turned to face me. "You are clearly a survivor from the SLS Manassas. The graves nearby indicate that you are the last to remain. So tell me, relic of the past. How have you survived where others did not?"
Blasterbot
Well-known member
I actually really like the alternate 3 start. would be neat to see more of it if it grabs your attention. people don't tend to write much from the clan perspective.
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
So, the Alternate beginnings are all three a part of the same “concept” as it were. And was one of the original ways I considered writing Blood on the Horizon.
Chapter 16
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 16
"I! Hate! This! Stupid! Fucking! Place!" I slammed my bloodied knuckles into the punching bag with every breath. The tape did little to stop the red droplets from dripping down.
"I just want to go home," I breathed, stilling the punching bag and turning away as the rage left, my gut churning with emotion as exhaustion seeped in. "I'm so tired."
I shuffled slowly to the door, sweat and blood mingling together on the floor as blood dripped from my knuckles.
Moving through the hidden base, I eventually stopped at a bathroom and pulled a medkit off of the wall. Then, sitting down on the toilet, I began cleaning my knuckles with an alcohol pad, a slight hiss the only noise I made before I taped my knuckles together with more medical tape and gauze.
Everything was dull, now that I had spent all of my emotional energy, I felt drained as if I were merely a robot operating in human flesh. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, I wasn't going to be getting out of here. I mean, I couldn't even get the King Henry V to work with the runtimes I had isolated!
Standing up with a slight groan of pain as my left knee twinged, I left the bathroom and found the nearest bunk. I didn't have the energy for any of this today, maybe things would be different in the morning.
–
–
Things weren't better in the morning. I was still stuck here, and now I was in pain because of yesterday me's stupid choices.
"Yesterday me was a fuckin' idiot," I swore. "I still have to do the work, now I just get to do it sore, tired, and bloody."
Climbing out of the bunk I slept in the night before, I figured out my location relative to the mess hall and made my way back there. If I were going to have a bad day, I'd at least start it caffeinated.
June 7th, 3001. SLDF Hidden Repair and Refit Facility on the border of the Federated Suns and Taurian Concordat
"And that's two years I've been stuck here," I sipped at my coffee while examining the code that was so close to working.
"Wait," I leaned forward, spotting an error that I hadn't noticed before. A Definition hadn't been assigned properly. One simple missing closing parenthesis had thrown off the results I had been trying for the last few months. Weeks of pain and headache, all due to one minor error that was left over from the original AI's runtimes.
"Stuff like this is why I didn't pursue programming as a career," I shook my head as a migraine started to push to the foreground of my mind. "Guess I'll run this again before I deal with this."
Plugging the corrected runtimes into the jumpship's software, I set it to run the tests before stepping away. I needed to find something to fix this damned headache.
–
–
"You're addictive," I set aside all of the opioids as I dug through the doctor's medicine cabinet on the Manassas. "I just need super aspirin or something. Future of the eighties, don't fail me now."
There! I found what I was looking for.
"Thousand milligrams of Ibuprofen, some caffeine, a little bit of B12. I'm thinking this was someone's attempt at a hangover cure, but I'll use it for a migraine instead."
Swallowing the pill as directed, I tucked the bottle away into my pack while sucking down a bunch of water.
"I'm going to have faith that those runtimes will work," I muttered as I began to head back to the main cargo bay. "And start transferring the gear and kit that I want over to the King Henry V and her dropships."
"Information security," I shook my head as I entered the password that the captain of the Messenger had so helpfully written down. "It's not many people's strong suit."
Typing away, I began devouring the information inside the terminal, the Messenger was important, and for more than one reason.
The Messenger was a Pueblo class dropship, used by the SLIC to maintain their intelligence networks. It was normally armed to the teeth, more heavily armored than other aerodynes, and able to both transmit and receive classified information with the HPG that was hidden away behind a secret compartment. There were passenger spaces, and cargo spaces as well. The ship being cleverly designed to look and act like a normal trade dropship, it was able to slip by unnoticed by most of the Inner Sphere and Periphery worlds. Collecting data and relaying what information they gained back to Terra.
Interestingly enough, this ship was part of a larger trade network, and her captain was the sole 'owner' of the larger company, with funding and cash reserves stashed in various banks across the Inner Sphere. And while I knew that some of those accounts would be gone or otherwise inaccessible, I would be able to get access to some of them with the account numbers and passwords that had been stored here.
It might not sound like much, but it would be a start and would enable me to find and hire those who might be interested in making my basic idea of a mercenary company come true.
But for now, I needed to focus on what was happening right in front of me.
"Four 'mechs," I ensured that the four battlemechs I had loaded into the Messenger were tied down properly. "One Warhammer, one Mongoose, a Griffin, and a Crab," I patted the crate that I had brought over. "One crate of SLDF mechwarrior uniforms, one crate of SLDF grade neurohelmets. And enough small arms to arm two companies."
"Dropships are loaded," I cheered to myself. "Now to make sure all of the trade goods are intact."
I took a fresh notebook and went over everything with a fine-toothed comb. Every small bolt, the spare parts that I had for the machines at my disposal. Everything had its place.
"Only thing that's left is to move the simulators over to one of the dropships," I pinched the bridge of my nose at the thought of the hell machines. "I'm gonna regret this, I just know it."
But, at the thought of finally getting out of here and making contact again, my mood immediately changed, with a fresh wave of energy arriving with the rush of dopamine.
"Let's just get it done," I said to myself. "Sooner it's finished, the sooner I get to leave and see people again. And I've had enough of being alone for a lifetime."
"I! Hate! This! Stupid! Fucking! Place!" I slammed my bloodied knuckles into the punching bag with every breath. The tape did little to stop the red droplets from dripping down.
"I just want to go home," I breathed, stilling the punching bag and turning away as the rage left, my gut churning with emotion as exhaustion seeped in. "I'm so tired."
I shuffled slowly to the door, sweat and blood mingling together on the floor as blood dripped from my knuckles.
Moving through the hidden base, I eventually stopped at a bathroom and pulled a medkit off of the wall. Then, sitting down on the toilet, I began cleaning my knuckles with an alcohol pad, a slight hiss the only noise I made before I taped my knuckles together with more medical tape and gauze.
Everything was dull, now that I had spent all of my emotional energy, I felt drained as if I were merely a robot operating in human flesh. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, I wasn't going to be getting out of here. I mean, I couldn't even get the King Henry V to work with the runtimes I had isolated!
Standing up with a slight groan of pain as my left knee twinged, I left the bathroom and found the nearest bunk. I didn't have the energy for any of this today, maybe things would be different in the morning.
–
–
Things weren't better in the morning. I was still stuck here, and now I was in pain because of yesterday me's stupid choices.
"Yesterday me was a fuckin' idiot," I swore. "I still have to do the work, now I just get to do it sore, tired, and bloody."
Climbing out of the bunk I slept in the night before, I figured out my location relative to the mess hall and made my way back there. If I were going to have a bad day, I'd at least start it caffeinated.
June 7th, 3001. SLDF Hidden Repair and Refit Facility on the border of the Federated Suns and Taurian Concordat
"And that's two years I've been stuck here," I sipped at my coffee while examining the code that was so close to working.
"Wait," I leaned forward, spotting an error that I hadn't noticed before. A Definition hadn't been assigned properly. One simple missing closing parenthesis had thrown off the results I had been trying for the last few months. Weeks of pain and headache, all due to one minor error that was left over from the original AI's runtimes.
"Stuff like this is why I didn't pursue programming as a career," I shook my head as a migraine started to push to the foreground of my mind. "Guess I'll run this again before I deal with this."
Plugging the corrected runtimes into the jumpship's software, I set it to run the tests before stepping away. I needed to find something to fix this damned headache.
–
–
"You're addictive," I set aside all of the opioids as I dug through the doctor's medicine cabinet on the Manassas. "I just need super aspirin or something. Future of the eighties, don't fail me now."
There! I found what I was looking for.
"Thousand milligrams of Ibuprofen, some caffeine, a little bit of B12. I'm thinking this was someone's attempt at a hangover cure, but I'll use it for a migraine instead."
Swallowing the pill as directed, I tucked the bottle away into my pack while sucking down a bunch of water.
"I'm going to have faith that those runtimes will work," I muttered as I began to head back to the main cargo bay. "And start transferring the gear and kit that I want over to the King Henry V and her dropships."
"Information security," I shook my head as I entered the password that the captain of the Messenger had so helpfully written down. "It's not many people's strong suit."
Typing away, I began devouring the information inside the terminal, the Messenger was important, and for more than one reason.
The Messenger was a Pueblo class dropship, used by the SLIC to maintain their intelligence networks. It was normally armed to the teeth, more heavily armored than other aerodynes, and able to both transmit and receive classified information with the HPG that was hidden away behind a secret compartment. There were passenger spaces, and cargo spaces as well. The ship being cleverly designed to look and act like a normal trade dropship, it was able to slip by unnoticed by most of the Inner Sphere and Periphery worlds. Collecting data and relaying what information they gained back to Terra.
Interestingly enough, this ship was part of a larger trade network, and her captain was the sole 'owner' of the larger company, with funding and cash reserves stashed in various banks across the Inner Sphere. And while I knew that some of those accounts would be gone or otherwise inaccessible, I would be able to get access to some of them with the account numbers and passwords that had been stored here.
It might not sound like much, but it would be a start and would enable me to find and hire those who might be interested in making my basic idea of a mercenary company come true.
But for now, I needed to focus on what was happening right in front of me.
"Four 'mechs," I ensured that the four battlemechs I had loaded into the Messenger were tied down properly. "One Warhammer, one Mongoose, a Griffin, and a Crab," I patted the crate that I had brought over. "One crate of SLDF mechwarrior uniforms, one crate of SLDF grade neurohelmets. And enough small arms to arm two companies."
"Dropships are loaded," I cheered to myself. "Now to make sure all of the trade goods are intact."
I took a fresh notebook and went over everything with a fine-toothed comb. Every small bolt, the spare parts that I had for the machines at my disposal. Everything had its place.
"Only thing that's left is to move the simulators over to one of the dropships," I pinched the bridge of my nose at the thought of the hell machines. "I'm gonna regret this, I just know it."
But, at the thought of finally getting out of here and making contact again, my mood immediately changed, with a fresh wave of energy arriving with the rush of dopamine.
"Let's just get it done," I said to myself. "Sooner it's finished, the sooner I get to leave and see people again. And I've had enough of being alone for a lifetime."
Chapter 17
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 17
"Last check," I muttered as I stowed my backpack with all of the gear from home into the captain's quarters on the Messenger. "I've got all of my kit from home here and hidden," I checked off a list with a clipboard I had found. "Accounts and passwords from the previous owners, check. The rest of it needs to be done on the King Henry V."
As I made my way through the connecting systems onto the Jumpship, I checked off the things that I had already done, from making sure the Manassas' reactor was shut down properly, to doing the same with all of the systems that were active on the base barring the doors and the hydroponics.
"Sending door code," I said to myself as I sat at the communications station of the Jumpship. "Doors are opening, now I get to settle down for the long haul."
Jumpships have station-keeping thrusters, and that's about it. It can take weeks, or even months for a Jumpship to travel from a shipyard to the jump point. And, given the relative rarity of modern jumpships, it made sense that you wouldn't want to bring one any closer to an enemy than necessary.
This meant that a trip that had only taken a day or so while on the Manassas was now going to take me a couple of weeks.
"Need to figure out where I'm going before I reach the zenith," I muttered as I set up the station-keeping thrusters to head for the general area of the jump point. I would have plenty of time to change course if I were off.
–
–
"I'm about a jump away from the Concordat or the FedSuns," I looked at the map. "FedSuns probably have access to the accounts considering the Messenger and her company were fronting as a company out of there."
"Pierce looks like my best bet," I noted. "Decently industrialized, quite a few other jumps that are close enough if I need to move on. And a Star League-era recharge station. Or at least there's supposed to be one there."
I shrugged and put the system at the top of my list. "It's at least a good starting point."
Nodding to myself, I set up everything and then strapped myself into a sleeping bag I had anchored onto the bridge. Some sleep seemed like a really good idea right now.
"Alright," I triple-checked the coordinates and other calculations. "Let's try to jump."
I hit the button and was greeted by a warning notice.
"I'm an idiot," I facepalmed and let myself float further back. "I forgot that this isn't the Manassas, the K-F drive needs to recharge."
Hitting a few switches, the solar sails deployed, the material unfolding before the ship.
"I wish my dad were here to see all of this," I said after a minute. "This is the sort of thing he would have loved to be a part of."
I sniffled for a minute before drying my eyes and turning to leave the bridge. There was nothing I could do there for now.
–
–
"Put the pain somewhere else," I pushed the bar up, my arms and chest aching from the workout. "Anywhere else."
Sitting up, I toweled off some of the sweat, before standing and moving to the squat rack, my knee twinging as I hefted the weights onto my shoulder.
I grunted as I began the leg exercise, the pain in my knee easing out as I settled into the routine of the workout.
"Four more," I grunted as I worked toward the end of my first set, inhaling deep as I dipped while maintaining my balance before standing back up.
After finishing the leg workouts, I moved to a treadmill. "Rule number one:" I chuckled. "Cardio."
One week later…
"Fuckin' finally," I grinned as the display showed the K-F drive active and ready to go. "Next stop, civilization."
The King Henry V winked out of existence.
A nod and a salute from someone in an SLDF uniform as I buried the dead. The ticking of an old clock as time moved on.
An ornate throne with two sisters prostrate before it as a man glared angrily.
The image of a Wolf, and its grinning teeth as an Archer filled the air with missiles.
A strange-looking dropship with a blond woman and her husband on board, the crew mourning as they leave.
And above it all, was the image of a red hourglass and a redhead glaring into my soul.
"Unknown Jumpship, please respond," a female voice repeated over the comms systems. "This is the Janus recharge station, respond or we will consider you hostile and send out an ASF squadron to ensure you're not a threat."
"This is the King Henry V," I finally leaned over and spoke into the mic. "We suffered a misjump and I only just now managed to get back into known space. Can you tell me what's going on?"
"King Henry, if that's you, then you've been missing for nearly three hundred years," a shocked voice responded. "You've got permission to dock with Janus, but we'll be asking some questions."
"Copy that, Janus," I replied. "I'll start steering in your direction."
"What do we have today, ensign?" Lieutenant Erica Lamb asked as she sipped at her coffee.
"We're not expecting any jumpships for a couple of weeks, ma'am. Our regulars are out for a bit," Ensign Hall shrugged. "Everything's pretty quiet out there."
"It's been decades since anything other than pirates or small traders visited," Hall continued. "I doubt we'll have any excitement today."
"We'll see," Erica replied as she settled into her seat. "Never know what Saint Murphy has waiting for us."
"Got that right, LT," Hall chuckled as he spun his chair around to face the Officer on Duty.
The two officers continued to chitchat as they scanned the system and jump point periodically, the four lightweight ASF in their bays on standby as always.
"Lieutenant!" Hall barked. "You might want to see this."
"Invader, three dropships," his hands flew across the controls. "Can't make out the relative mass."
"I'll start hailing them," Erika sat down in her chair. "Have our fighters on Standby. I'll wake the Captain."
"Last check," I muttered as I stowed my backpack with all of the gear from home into the captain's quarters on the Messenger. "I've got all of my kit from home here and hidden," I checked off a list with a clipboard I had found. "Accounts and passwords from the previous owners, check. The rest of it needs to be done on the King Henry V."
As I made my way through the connecting systems onto the Jumpship, I checked off the things that I had already done, from making sure the Manassas' reactor was shut down properly, to doing the same with all of the systems that were active on the base barring the doors and the hydroponics.
"Sending door code," I said to myself as I sat at the communications station of the Jumpship. "Doors are opening, now I get to settle down for the long haul."
Jumpships have station-keeping thrusters, and that's about it. It can take weeks, or even months for a Jumpship to travel from a shipyard to the jump point. And, given the relative rarity of modern jumpships, it made sense that you wouldn't want to bring one any closer to an enemy than necessary.
This meant that a trip that had only taken a day or so while on the Manassas was now going to take me a couple of weeks.
"Need to figure out where I'm going before I reach the zenith," I muttered as I set up the station-keeping thrusters to head for the general area of the jump point. I would have plenty of time to change course if I were off.
–
–
"I'm about a jump away from the Concordat or the FedSuns," I looked at the map. "FedSuns probably have access to the accounts considering the Messenger and her company were fronting as a company out of there."
"Pierce looks like my best bet," I noted. "Decently industrialized, quite a few other jumps that are close enough if I need to move on. And a Star League-era recharge station. Or at least there's supposed to be one there."
I shrugged and put the system at the top of my list. "It's at least a good starting point."
Nodding to myself, I set up everything and then strapped myself into a sleeping bag I had anchored onto the bridge. Some sleep seemed like a really good idea right now.
"Alright," I triple-checked the coordinates and other calculations. "Let's try to jump."
I hit the button and was greeted by a warning notice.
"I'm an idiot," I facepalmed and let myself float further back. "I forgot that this isn't the Manassas, the K-F drive needs to recharge."
Hitting a few switches, the solar sails deployed, the material unfolding before the ship.
"I wish my dad were here to see all of this," I said after a minute. "This is the sort of thing he would have loved to be a part of."
I sniffled for a minute before drying my eyes and turning to leave the bridge. There was nothing I could do there for now.
–
–
"Put the pain somewhere else," I pushed the bar up, my arms and chest aching from the workout. "Anywhere else."
Sitting up, I toweled off some of the sweat, before standing and moving to the squat rack, my knee twinging as I hefted the weights onto my shoulder.
I grunted as I began the leg exercise, the pain in my knee easing out as I settled into the routine of the workout.
"Four more," I grunted as I worked toward the end of my first set, inhaling deep as I dipped while maintaining my balance before standing back up.
After finishing the leg workouts, I moved to a treadmill. "Rule number one:" I chuckled. "Cardio."
One week later…
"Fuckin' finally," I grinned as the display showed the K-F drive active and ready to go. "Next stop, civilization."
The King Henry V winked out of existence.
A nod and a salute from someone in an SLDF uniform as I buried the dead. The ticking of an old clock as time moved on.
An ornate throne with two sisters prostrate before it as a man glared angrily.
The image of a Wolf, and its grinning teeth as an Archer filled the air with missiles.
A strange-looking dropship with a blond woman and her husband on board, the crew mourning as they leave.
And above it all, was the image of a red hourglass and a redhead glaring into my soul.
"Unknown Jumpship, please respond," a female voice repeated over the comms systems. "This is the Janus recharge station, respond or we will consider you hostile and send out an ASF squadron to ensure you're not a threat."
"This is the King Henry V," I finally leaned over and spoke into the mic. "We suffered a misjump and I only just now managed to get back into known space. Can you tell me what's going on?"
"King Henry, if that's you, then you've been missing for nearly three hundred years," a shocked voice responded. "You've got permission to dock with Janus, but we'll be asking some questions."
"Copy that, Janus," I replied. "I'll start steering in your direction."
"What do we have today, ensign?" Lieutenant Erica Lamb asked as she sipped at her coffee.
"We're not expecting any jumpships for a couple of weeks, ma'am. Our regulars are out for a bit," Ensign Hall shrugged. "Everything's pretty quiet out there."
"It's been decades since anything other than pirates or small traders visited," Hall continued. "I doubt we'll have any excitement today."
"We'll see," Erica replied as she settled into her seat. "Never know what Saint Murphy has waiting for us."
"Got that right, LT," Hall chuckled as he spun his chair around to face the Officer on Duty.
The two officers continued to chitchat as they scanned the system and jump point periodically, the four lightweight ASF in their bays on standby as always.
"Lieutenant!" Hall barked. "You might want to see this."
"Invader, three dropships," his hands flew across the controls. "Can't make out the relative mass."
"I'll start hailing them," Erika sat down in her chair. "Have our fighters on Standby. I'll wake the Captain."
Well,considering everytching,he must be at least partially mad.But,if he survive coming battle,then ....he could get redhead mentioned in vision,2 blonde sisters,or...WHY NOT BOTH ?
Chapter 18
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 18
"Take it slow and steady, King Henry," a female voice instructed as I slowly approached the charging station. "You're on a good course for docking."
"Copy that, Janus," I responded as I gripped the sticks. "Just feed me course corrections if I screw it up."
There was a gaping pit in my stomach as I watched the station slowly become larger in the viewport, my heart pumped loudly, and blood rushed into my ears as my senses narrowed down to the controls and the docking point.
The ship rocked slightly as I touched the controls, bringing the King Henry to a stop as docking clamps held onto the side and an airlock extended.
I sat there and breathed in, and out. Trying to control the sea of emotions that stormed inside.
"I'm good," I unstrapped myself and exhaled, nodding to myself as I shunted the emotions to the side. "I can do this."
-
-
Standing by the airlock, the passageway pressurized and the doors slid open.
"Permission to come aboard?" I asked as I stopped before the threshold of the station, tears barely held back as I looked at the trio that were waiting.
"Permission granted," a slightly familiar voice answered. "Welcome aboard the Janus, mister?"
"Mark Hull," I choked out. "I'm Mark Hull."
Seeing people and hearing voices that weren't through a speaker finally did me in, I fell to my knees and began to weep.
"Please tell me you're real," I whispered. "I don't think I'll go on for much longer if y'all are just another hallucination."
"We're very real," a man chuckled. "And boy do you have some questions to answer."
"I just got back from checking the family records. Any luck with Comstar?" Captain Mendez asked.
"Most of his story checks out," Lieutenant Lamb replied. "We can see that some hasty repairs were made to the Helium seals. And the Jumpship is an exact match for the records that Comstar has of the ship. Hull himself doesn't show up on those records, but employment records for single owner mechant Jumpships weren't exactly things that they kept after the Succession Wars started."
"Truth is stranger than fiction," Mendez shook his head as he snickered. "So we've got a time traveling merchant who hasn't interacted with people in years."
"Yeah, that wasn't in any of the training I got, sir," Lamb snarked back. "I'm supposed to deal with pirates and idiots. Not people who are having emotional breakdowns at the sight of people. And to think, you thought it was a ghost ship."
"In my defense, my family has some pretty crazy reports from the last few hundred years. And in his defense, we were the first people he's seen in nearly two years if his story is true," Mendez pointed out. "And at this point, it's kinda hard to disprove his story."
"It'd be easier if he weren't a mess every time we asked to meet with him," Erika sighed. "He's getting there, but I think it'll take him a few weeks before he's able to have a solid conversation for more than a few minutes at a time."
"Guy hasn't had anything to speak to aside from some simulators on board for a few years," Mendez shook his head. "I'd be a wreck too. Anyway, we'll give him a few more days to get acclimated. But, I'm about to mark his story as legit and allow him to start trading. He's still got goods that would be plenty valuable down on Pierce, after all."
"Well, I'm near the end of my contract," Lamb shrugged. "Want me to tag along with him?"
"If you're willing," Mendez replied. "I know you're aiming to leave the system once your contract is up, but I'd appreciate it if you did me that as a last favor."
A few days previously…
"We're very real," Captain Mendez chuckled. "And boy do you have some questions to answer."
The man grabbed onto the first person and latched on, sobbing the whole time.
"You're okay," Ensign Hall glared at Lieutenant Lamb from the hug he was wrapped in, his wiry frame disappearing behind the bearded bear that had come out of the Jumpship. "Some help, LT?"
"I think you're doing fine," Erika patted the junior officer on the back. "I'd just let him cry it out. Seems like the guy's been through a lot."
Looking behind her, she saw Captain Mendez jerk his head over to the docked Jumpship.
"Let's see where the rest of the crew is," Mendez said once they were out of earshot. "I doubt he's the only one, and this screams of someone trying to get a foothold into the system."
"I don't know, boss," Erika glanced back at where poor Ensign Hall was still stuck. "That guy seems pretty messed up."
The two stepped out into the hallway of the Jumpship and noted how quiet everything was, the empty hallways curving their way through.
"Where is everyone?" Erika asked as she moved to the bridge. "It's incredibly difficult to get a Jumpship moving alone, that's the kind of scenarios that generate nightmares for spacers."
"Don't I know it," Mendez shifted behind her, a chill going down his spine. "Lieutenant, I don't think we belong here," Mendez shook his head and pushed off back into the airlock while making the sign of the Cross. "This is a ghost ship. I'll not have anything to do with it."
"You're scared of ghosts?" Erika asked when they were safely back on the station.
"My family has owned this station for generations," Mendez replied. "I am convinced that there is more out here in the void than anyone could have predicted. My pops used to show me records of some of his sensor ghosts. Full Taurian Battlegroups that seem there but then vanish, strange signals that seem to be generated from nowhere. You name it, we've seen it. So yeah, a ghost ship with one survivor? I am absolutely certain that it's possible."
"Whatever you say, boss," Erika shrugged. "You're in charge here."
"Thank God," Hall said once he saw them again. "He fell asleep, but I don't know how to move him without potentially hurting him."
"We'll get him a bunk," Mendez helped shift the stranger. "I'm sure he's got quite a story to tell once he wakes up."
"Take it slow and steady, King Henry," a female voice instructed as I slowly approached the charging station. "You're on a good course for docking."
"Copy that, Janus," I responded as I gripped the sticks. "Just feed me course corrections if I screw it up."
There was a gaping pit in my stomach as I watched the station slowly become larger in the viewport, my heart pumped loudly, and blood rushed into my ears as my senses narrowed down to the controls and the docking point.
The ship rocked slightly as I touched the controls, bringing the King Henry to a stop as docking clamps held onto the side and an airlock extended.
I sat there and breathed in, and out. Trying to control the sea of emotions that stormed inside.
"I'm good," I unstrapped myself and exhaled, nodding to myself as I shunted the emotions to the side. "I can do this."
-
-
Standing by the airlock, the passageway pressurized and the doors slid open.
"Permission to come aboard?" I asked as I stopped before the threshold of the station, tears barely held back as I looked at the trio that were waiting.
"Permission granted," a slightly familiar voice answered. "Welcome aboard the Janus, mister?"
"Mark Hull," I choked out. "I'm Mark Hull."
Seeing people and hearing voices that weren't through a speaker finally did me in, I fell to my knees and began to weep.
"Please tell me you're real," I whispered. "I don't think I'll go on for much longer if y'all are just another hallucination."
"We're very real," a man chuckled. "And boy do you have some questions to answer."
"I just got back from checking the family records. Any luck with Comstar?" Captain Mendez asked.
"Most of his story checks out," Lieutenant Lamb replied. "We can see that some hasty repairs were made to the Helium seals. And the Jumpship is an exact match for the records that Comstar has of the ship. Hull himself doesn't show up on those records, but employment records for single owner mechant Jumpships weren't exactly things that they kept after the Succession Wars started."
"Truth is stranger than fiction," Mendez shook his head as he snickered. "So we've got a time traveling merchant who hasn't interacted with people in years."
"Yeah, that wasn't in any of the training I got, sir," Lamb snarked back. "I'm supposed to deal with pirates and idiots. Not people who are having emotional breakdowns at the sight of people. And to think, you thought it was a ghost ship."
"In my defense, my family has some pretty crazy reports from the last few hundred years. And in his defense, we were the first people he's seen in nearly two years if his story is true," Mendez pointed out. "And at this point, it's kinda hard to disprove his story."
"It'd be easier if he weren't a mess every time we asked to meet with him," Erika sighed. "He's getting there, but I think it'll take him a few weeks before he's able to have a solid conversation for more than a few minutes at a time."
"Guy hasn't had anything to speak to aside from some simulators on board for a few years," Mendez shook his head. "I'd be a wreck too. Anyway, we'll give him a few more days to get acclimated. But, I'm about to mark his story as legit and allow him to start trading. He's still got goods that would be plenty valuable down on Pierce, after all."
"Well, I'm near the end of my contract," Lamb shrugged. "Want me to tag along with him?"
"If you're willing," Mendez replied. "I know you're aiming to leave the system once your contract is up, but I'd appreciate it if you did me that as a last favor."
A few days previously…
"We're very real," Captain Mendez chuckled. "And boy do you have some questions to answer."
The man grabbed onto the first person and latched on, sobbing the whole time.
"You're okay," Ensign Hall glared at Lieutenant Lamb from the hug he was wrapped in, his wiry frame disappearing behind the bearded bear that had come out of the Jumpship. "Some help, LT?"
"I think you're doing fine," Erika patted the junior officer on the back. "I'd just let him cry it out. Seems like the guy's been through a lot."
Looking behind her, she saw Captain Mendez jerk his head over to the docked Jumpship.
"Let's see where the rest of the crew is," Mendez said once they were out of earshot. "I doubt he's the only one, and this screams of someone trying to get a foothold into the system."
"I don't know, boss," Erika glanced back at where poor Ensign Hall was still stuck. "That guy seems pretty messed up."
The two stepped out into the hallway of the Jumpship and noted how quiet everything was, the empty hallways curving their way through.
"Where is everyone?" Erika asked as she moved to the bridge. "It's incredibly difficult to get a Jumpship moving alone, that's the kind of scenarios that generate nightmares for spacers."
"Don't I know it," Mendez shifted behind her, a chill going down his spine. "Lieutenant, I don't think we belong here," Mendez shook his head and pushed off back into the airlock while making the sign of the Cross. "This is a ghost ship. I'll not have anything to do with it."
"You're scared of ghosts?" Erika asked when they were safely back on the station.
"My family has owned this station for generations," Mendez replied. "I am convinced that there is more out here in the void than anyone could have predicted. My pops used to show me records of some of his sensor ghosts. Full Taurian Battlegroups that seem there but then vanish, strange signals that seem to be generated from nowhere. You name it, we've seen it. So yeah, a ghost ship with one survivor? I am absolutely certain that it's possible."
"Whatever you say, boss," Erika shrugged. "You're in charge here."
"Thank God," Hall said once he saw them again. "He fell asleep, but I don't know how to move him without potentially hurting him."
"We'll get him a bunk," Mendez helped shift the stranger. "I'm sure he's got quite a story to tell once he wakes up."
Last edited:
Chapter 19
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 19
August 10, 3001
"I would love to give you access to the accounts that still exist," I waited for the rest of the transmission to conclude. "But given the size of some of the said accounts, I'm not at liberty to discuss withdrawals not changes in investments over communications such as this. I can have a temporary spend account granted to you when you reach the spaceport though."
"Thank you," I hid my displeasure. "I'll be sure to stop by the HPG station and get some of this straightened out once I'm able to reach the ground."
"Not a great thing to hear," Mendez grinned as he entered the comms room that he had been letting me use.
"Yeah," I sighed, "Tell me about it. Thanks for letting me use the facilities here, I'm sure that you could have opened them up to someone else for a better profit."
"I think you need the help more than most people I've had come through here," the man shrugged. "I've managed to talk Erika into going to Pierce with you. And I've sent a message to my old man," Mendez looked me in the eye. "I know it's a lot, but you're gonna have to trust someone to watch the King Henry for you while you conduct business down below."
"You've done right by me," I nodded. "I'll trust that you've got someone trustworthy in mind,' I reached out to shake his hand. "But if someone steals my ship, I'm coming back, and we're gonna have issues if I have to come back."
"That's fair," Mendez agreed. "Just 'member to treat Erika right, she's been looking forward to getting out of the system for the last decade."
"I'll give her the option of running with me or if she wants me to drop her off somewhere else. But no promises beyond that."
"Permission to come aboard?" Erika asked as she stopped at the airlock.
"Permission granted," I grabbed her bags and helped her onto the Jumpship. "Sorry for freaking you and the ensign out last month."
"You've gotta stop apologizing so damn much," Erika shook her head. "We understand why you were a little bit crazy."
"Still, I owe all of you. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."
"You're my ticket out of here," Erika chuckled. "You don't owe me anything."
"Sure," I showed her to her new quarters. "We'll go with that. Anyway, take your time to get comfortable. We've got a few weeks before this ship even gets anywhere close to Pierce."
"Alright then," Erika replied. "I've got some reading to catch up on anyway. Just let me know if you need help with anything."
"I should be fine for now," I turned to leave for the bridge. "Let me know if you need a comms channel open or something."
–
–
"I didn't expect y'all to reach out so soon," I waited for my message to be received at the HPG on the planet.
"The Precentor wants to speak to you," a bored man in Comstar robes yawned. "And it's the end of my shift, I'll transfer you over now."
"Hello," a gray-haired, nearly balding man greeted me from the screen. "I'm Precentor Reginald Winfrey, and I'm so very excited to meet you!"
"Might I ask why?" I raised an eyebrow and waited.
"Why of course! I've long been a student of advanced astrophysics and K-F theory, got my doctorate at the University in Geneva on Terra," the man paused to inhale before continuing. "And while most of my days are spent running this station, there's not a chance in hell that I'd let the chance of a lifetime slip by me. I'd like to meet with you once you're on the planet, I'll even ensure that you're moved up to the top of the list for things to compensate you for your time. But you're an eyewitness to one of the greatest phenomena of our universe, and I would have failed as a scientist if I did not take this chance."
Normally, this is where I would be skeptical. Comstar had a… Reputation from what I remembered of trolling the various threads on Spacebattles. One that normally would have meant I should be cautious of any moves they made. But this man was older, his hair had long since faded into the silver shine of those who were wise, and his eyes shined with the look of someone who had finally met something he'd been looking for all along.
"I think I can make some time to speak with you," I smiled a bit. "I'm supposed to stop in at the HPG for a bit anyway."
"Thank you so much!" the older man grinned wide. "I look forward to seeing what insights you have into the field that I've never thought of before."
"Have a good one, Precentor," I chuckled as the communication shut down.
"He seems like fun," Erika floated onto the bridge.
"I think he's just excited to be practicing science," I shrugged. "You need something?"
"Yeah," Erika grabbed ahold of one of the stops. "Why do you only have really old Star League Rations on board?"
"I've also got some fish and potatoes growing in the hydroponics bay," I replied. "I can get some of that cooked up for you."
"Yes, please. I'm not sure how you've been alive if you've only eaten those rations for this long."
"You eat what you have to," I unstrapped myself. "Come on, let's get some grub."
"Thank you for being willing to take a shuttle up," I greeted Mendez's father. "Your son speaks highly of you."
"It is not every day that you meet one of the many sensor ghosts that we've recorded," the old man grinned, the gray eating away at the dark remnants of his brown hair. "I'll look after the ship for you. You get your business done.
"I'm trusting you with this," I locked eyes with the older Mendez. "This ship is all that I have left, please don't let anything happen to her."
"I'll treat her as if she were my own station," the man promised. "I swear it before God himself that I will not break this bond."
"Thank you," I shook his hand. "I'm counting on you."
"The Lord has seen you through a great trial," Mendez turned serious. "He does not forsake as easily as some are prone to thinking."
"Sure," Erika scoffed in the background. "Don't start that with me again, old man."
"She doesn't like how much faith I have," Mendez winked. "But one day she will understand!" he raised his voice loud enough for her to hear.
"I'd forgotten what the old man was like," Erika rolled her eyes as she boarded the Messenger after me. "He's a bit of a nutcase, but he's reliable and trustworthy if nothing else. If he says he's gonna do something, you can consider it done."
"Alright then," I eased myself into the pilot's chair of the aerodyne as Erika strapped herself in. "Next stop, Pierce."
August 10, 3001
"I would love to give you access to the accounts that still exist," I waited for the rest of the transmission to conclude. "But given the size of some of the said accounts, I'm not at liberty to discuss withdrawals not changes in investments over communications such as this. I can have a temporary spend account granted to you when you reach the spaceport though."
"Thank you," I hid my displeasure. "I'll be sure to stop by the HPG station and get some of this straightened out once I'm able to reach the ground."
"Not a great thing to hear," Mendez grinned as he entered the comms room that he had been letting me use.
"Yeah," I sighed, "Tell me about it. Thanks for letting me use the facilities here, I'm sure that you could have opened them up to someone else for a better profit."
"I think you need the help more than most people I've had come through here," the man shrugged. "I've managed to talk Erika into going to Pierce with you. And I've sent a message to my old man," Mendez looked me in the eye. "I know it's a lot, but you're gonna have to trust someone to watch the King Henry for you while you conduct business down below."
"You've done right by me," I nodded. "I'll trust that you've got someone trustworthy in mind,' I reached out to shake his hand. "But if someone steals my ship, I'm coming back, and we're gonna have issues if I have to come back."
"That's fair," Mendez agreed. "Just 'member to treat Erika right, she's been looking forward to getting out of the system for the last decade."
"I'll give her the option of running with me or if she wants me to drop her off somewhere else. But no promises beyond that."
"Permission to come aboard?" Erika asked as she stopped at the airlock.
"Permission granted," I grabbed her bags and helped her onto the Jumpship. "Sorry for freaking you and the ensign out last month."
"You've gotta stop apologizing so damn much," Erika shook her head. "We understand why you were a little bit crazy."
"Still, I owe all of you. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."
"You're my ticket out of here," Erika chuckled. "You don't owe me anything."
"Sure," I showed her to her new quarters. "We'll go with that. Anyway, take your time to get comfortable. We've got a few weeks before this ship even gets anywhere close to Pierce."
"Alright then," Erika replied. "I've got some reading to catch up on anyway. Just let me know if you need help with anything."
"I should be fine for now," I turned to leave for the bridge. "Let me know if you need a comms channel open or something."
–
–
"I didn't expect y'all to reach out so soon," I waited for my message to be received at the HPG on the planet.
"The Precentor wants to speak to you," a bored man in Comstar robes yawned. "And it's the end of my shift, I'll transfer you over now."
"Hello," a gray-haired, nearly balding man greeted me from the screen. "I'm Precentor Reginald Winfrey, and I'm so very excited to meet you!"
"Might I ask why?" I raised an eyebrow and waited.
"Why of course! I've long been a student of advanced astrophysics and K-F theory, got my doctorate at the University in Geneva on Terra," the man paused to inhale before continuing. "And while most of my days are spent running this station, there's not a chance in hell that I'd let the chance of a lifetime slip by me. I'd like to meet with you once you're on the planet, I'll even ensure that you're moved up to the top of the list for things to compensate you for your time. But you're an eyewitness to one of the greatest phenomena of our universe, and I would have failed as a scientist if I did not take this chance."
Normally, this is where I would be skeptical. Comstar had a… Reputation from what I remembered of trolling the various threads on Spacebattles. One that normally would have meant I should be cautious of any moves they made. But this man was older, his hair had long since faded into the silver shine of those who were wise, and his eyes shined with the look of someone who had finally met something he'd been looking for all along.
"I think I can make some time to speak with you," I smiled a bit. "I'm supposed to stop in at the HPG for a bit anyway."
"Thank you so much!" the older man grinned wide. "I look forward to seeing what insights you have into the field that I've never thought of before."
"Have a good one, Precentor," I chuckled as the communication shut down.
"He seems like fun," Erika floated onto the bridge.
"I think he's just excited to be practicing science," I shrugged. "You need something?"
"Yeah," Erika grabbed ahold of one of the stops. "Why do you only have really old Star League Rations on board?"
"I've also got some fish and potatoes growing in the hydroponics bay," I replied. "I can get some of that cooked up for you."
"Yes, please. I'm not sure how you've been alive if you've only eaten those rations for this long."
"You eat what you have to," I unstrapped myself. "Come on, let's get some grub."
"Thank you for being willing to take a shuttle up," I greeted Mendez's father. "Your son speaks highly of you."
"It is not every day that you meet one of the many sensor ghosts that we've recorded," the old man grinned, the gray eating away at the dark remnants of his brown hair. "I'll look after the ship for you. You get your business done.
"I'm trusting you with this," I locked eyes with the older Mendez. "This ship is all that I have left, please don't let anything happen to her."
"I'll treat her as if she were my own station," the man promised. "I swear it before God himself that I will not break this bond."
"Thank you," I shook his hand. "I'm counting on you."
"The Lord has seen you through a great trial," Mendez turned serious. "He does not forsake as easily as some are prone to thinking."
"Sure," Erika scoffed in the background. "Don't start that with me again, old man."
"She doesn't like how much faith I have," Mendez winked. "But one day she will understand!" he raised his voice loud enough for her to hear.
"I'd forgotten what the old man was like," Erika rolled her eyes as she boarded the Messenger after me. "He's a bit of a nutcase, but he's reliable and trustworthy if nothing else. If he says he's gonna do something, you can consider it done."
"Alright then," I eased myself into the pilot's chair of the aerodyne as Erika strapped herself in. "Next stop, Pierce."
Chapter 20
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 20
“Work on your angles for next time,” Erika sighed as she unstrapped herself, the Messenger touching down on the spaceport’s runway. “That shudder worried me for a minute.”
“She’s a tough girl,” I patted the console in front of me. “But I’m not planning on being the one flying next time. I’ve only ever used Jumpships, so this was a new thing for me.”
“Probably a sound idea,” Erika gave me a thumbs up and staggered out of the cockpit. “Now, you’ll probably want some sort of sunglasses. Real sunlight is a lot different from what you’ve been used to for the past few years.
“Got ‘em right here,” I held up the pair that was stuffed into a pocket. “I think I’ll change out of the suit though, something more casual seems like it might be the better option.”
“Might want to take a shower too,” Erika nodded. “But you’re going to want to deal with Customs and the docks first. Otherwise, you’ll be paying fines.”
“Okay,” I nodded, showing her the way to the small personnel ramp. “Let’s get this sorted out.”
“I take it you’re the owner of this ship, here?” A man in a pair of grease-stained overalls and an old cowboy hat stepped forward and shook my hand.
“Yessir,” I met his eyes. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Aye, I’m Mitchel Brown, the local inspector. Your docking fees have already been covered by Comstar’s local Precentor. But you’ll still have to declare your manifest. We’re mostly an agricultural world around here, so any plants’ll have to be inspected by one of our people.”
“Had an issue before, I take it?” I asked as my eyebrows shot up.
“All say,” he chuckled. “Had a merchant a few years back accidentally bring over an invasive weed. It’s got a pretty flower, so some poor fool bought it for his girl, ‘for the end of the month we had to start actively exterminating the damned thing. We just managed it last year, and we’re not eager to have a repeat.”
“Well,” I laughed. “I don’t got any produce, been subsisting off of MREs for a while, and not the good ones.”
“I know what you mean,” He accepted the manifest. “Looks like you’ve got quite a bit of machinery here,” he nodded to himself. “Might have some local farmers or industrial types that’ll be looking to trade you for ‘em.”
“Gotta get some stuff straightened out with Comstar first, Mr. Brown.”
“Well, I’ll let y’all get on your way,” the man tipped his hat and walked off. “Just gimme a holler if you need anything, now.”
“Will do,” I turned and walked back into the dropship. “Erika, I’m gonna take a shower and get changed, you can go head on to whatever business you had. I’ll meet you back at the dropship in a week or so to discuss what plans I have before heading on out.”
“Sounds good to me,” Erika walked down the ramp with a jaunty wave.
“Mitchel, you old dog!” She greeted the inspector. “I thought you’d retired years ago…”
“I’m Mark Hull,” I woke up the guard at the HPG station from where he was snoring away. “I was asked to speak with your Precentor Winfrey.”
“What?!” The man started awake, his sidearm nearly falling out of his holster as he stood up rapidly. “Oh,” he looked at me for a minute as his brain turned over. “You got an appointment?”
“I’m not actually sure,” I shrugged, keeping my opinion on his readiness to myself. “Your Preceentor asked to meet with me.”
“Let me check in with the guys inside,” he reached for a radio, “No funny business now, I’ve got my eyes on you.”
“If I’d wanted to try something, it would have been while you were snoring,” I muttered under my breath.
“Alright, you can head on in,” the man waved me through. “Follow the signs or ask someone for help if you get lost. But don’t go wandering, understand?”
“I think I can figure it out,” I walked through the now-open gate, and made my way through the small garden that was spaced between the main complex and the outer walls.
“Mr. Hull?” a robed woman asked, a clipboard in hand as I injured the main doors.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “That’s me.”
“Follow me, please,” She turned, her gray robes shifting and concealing her figure. “The Precentor has been eager to speak with you for most of the week.”
“I’m not that important,” I chuckled. “I’m just lucky where others weren’t.”
“Speaking of which,” she stopped and turned to face me. “I’m the one who has been tasked with assisting you with reclaiming the accounts that you have access to. Once you have finished speaking with Precentor Winfrey, we will begin going over the process that is required before you can utilize the assets that you ‘technically’ have access to.”
“Thank you,” I smiled. “I’m glad that something worked out in the fucking mess that is my life.”
“I wouldn’t count on that yet,” She laughed. “You haven’t seen the paperwork you have to fill out yet.”
“Fair enough,” I walked through the door she indicated.
“Precentor, you’ve got a guest,” she knocked on the door.
“Oh! He’s here!” the man stood up from his desk and shook my hand profusely. “Please, come in and take a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? Oh, the questions I have for you.”
–
–
“You’re a miracle in the world of K-F theory,” Winfrey grinned as he pulled out an old faded notebook. “Now, please start telling me your story. I’m hoping that even a layman such as yourself may have observed something that will change the world as we know it.”
“Well, it all started when…”
“You alright?” The woman met me at the door of the office. “Sorry about him, he’s not normally so energetic.”
“It’s fine,” I smiled and stretched. “The man seems very eager to explore science, I almost feel bad for him. Chained here to a desk instead of doing research.”
“Most of us are here at this station because we made someone on Terra mad,” she led me to her own office. “The border between the Suns and the Concordat isn’t exactly a dream posting.”
“I bet,” I chuckled as I sipped at my water bottle. “Now, you said something about paperwork, Miss?”
“Rose,” she responded. “And I already have your name, Mr. Hull as well as the account numbers that you provided me with. In order to access them, I’m going to need a bit more than that though. These accounts were absorbed by Comstar after the fall of the Terran Hegemony, and while we’ve kept decent records, there are still some steps that we have to go through for accounts that have been mostly inactive aside from the automatic investments that had been started before the Succession Wars started.”
“Well, Miss Rose, just tell me what I need to fill out and we’ll get started,” I sighed. “I’d rather get all of this stuff out of the way now than later when I’m in a rush to do something.”
“We’re going to be here a while,” the Acolyte replied. “I’ll order a pizza or something.”
“That would be great,” I began looking at the stack set before me. “Just a plain pepperoni or something, I’m not sure I can handle more than that at the moment. It’s been a while.”
“I’ll get that called in while you look through the fine print,” Rose nodded. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”
“Work on your angles for next time,” Erika sighed as she unstrapped herself, the Messenger touching down on the spaceport’s runway. “That shudder worried me for a minute.”
“She’s a tough girl,” I patted the console in front of me. “But I’m not planning on being the one flying next time. I’ve only ever used Jumpships, so this was a new thing for me.”
“Probably a sound idea,” Erika gave me a thumbs up and staggered out of the cockpit. “Now, you’ll probably want some sort of sunglasses. Real sunlight is a lot different from what you’ve been used to for the past few years.
“Got ‘em right here,” I held up the pair that was stuffed into a pocket. “I think I’ll change out of the suit though, something more casual seems like it might be the better option.”
“Might want to take a shower too,” Erika nodded. “But you’re going to want to deal with Customs and the docks first. Otherwise, you’ll be paying fines.”
“Okay,” I nodded, showing her the way to the small personnel ramp. “Let’s get this sorted out.”
“I take it you’re the owner of this ship, here?” A man in a pair of grease-stained overalls and an old cowboy hat stepped forward and shook my hand.
“Yessir,” I met his eyes. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Aye, I’m Mitchel Brown, the local inspector. Your docking fees have already been covered by Comstar’s local Precentor. But you’ll still have to declare your manifest. We’re mostly an agricultural world around here, so any plants’ll have to be inspected by one of our people.”
“Had an issue before, I take it?” I asked as my eyebrows shot up.
“All say,” he chuckled. “Had a merchant a few years back accidentally bring over an invasive weed. It’s got a pretty flower, so some poor fool bought it for his girl, ‘for the end of the month we had to start actively exterminating the damned thing. We just managed it last year, and we’re not eager to have a repeat.”
“Well,” I laughed. “I don’t got any produce, been subsisting off of MREs for a while, and not the good ones.”
“I know what you mean,” He accepted the manifest. “Looks like you’ve got quite a bit of machinery here,” he nodded to himself. “Might have some local farmers or industrial types that’ll be looking to trade you for ‘em.”
“Gotta get some stuff straightened out with Comstar first, Mr. Brown.”
“Well, I’ll let y’all get on your way,” the man tipped his hat and walked off. “Just gimme a holler if you need anything, now.”
“Will do,” I turned and walked back into the dropship. “Erika, I’m gonna take a shower and get changed, you can go head on to whatever business you had. I’ll meet you back at the dropship in a week or so to discuss what plans I have before heading on out.”
“Sounds good to me,” Erika walked down the ramp with a jaunty wave.
“Mitchel, you old dog!” She greeted the inspector. “I thought you’d retired years ago…”
“I’m Mark Hull,” I woke up the guard at the HPG station from where he was snoring away. “I was asked to speak with your Precentor Winfrey.”
“What?!” The man started awake, his sidearm nearly falling out of his holster as he stood up rapidly. “Oh,” he looked at me for a minute as his brain turned over. “You got an appointment?”
“I’m not actually sure,” I shrugged, keeping my opinion on his readiness to myself. “Your Preceentor asked to meet with me.”
“Let me check in with the guys inside,” he reached for a radio, “No funny business now, I’ve got my eyes on you.”
“If I’d wanted to try something, it would have been while you were snoring,” I muttered under my breath.
“Alright, you can head on in,” the man waved me through. “Follow the signs or ask someone for help if you get lost. But don’t go wandering, understand?”
“I think I can figure it out,” I walked through the now-open gate, and made my way through the small garden that was spaced between the main complex and the outer walls.
“Mr. Hull?” a robed woman asked, a clipboard in hand as I injured the main doors.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “That’s me.”
“Follow me, please,” She turned, her gray robes shifting and concealing her figure. “The Precentor has been eager to speak with you for most of the week.”
“I’m not that important,” I chuckled. “I’m just lucky where others weren’t.”
“Speaking of which,” she stopped and turned to face me. “I’m the one who has been tasked with assisting you with reclaiming the accounts that you have access to. Once you have finished speaking with Precentor Winfrey, we will begin going over the process that is required before you can utilize the assets that you ‘technically’ have access to.”
“Thank you,” I smiled. “I’m glad that something worked out in the fucking mess that is my life.”
“I wouldn’t count on that yet,” She laughed. “You haven’t seen the paperwork you have to fill out yet.”
“Fair enough,” I walked through the door she indicated.
“Precentor, you’ve got a guest,” she knocked on the door.
“Oh! He’s here!” the man stood up from his desk and shook my hand profusely. “Please, come in and take a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? Oh, the questions I have for you.”
–
–
“You’re a miracle in the world of K-F theory,” Winfrey grinned as he pulled out an old faded notebook. “Now, please start telling me your story. I’m hoping that even a layman such as yourself may have observed something that will change the world as we know it.”
“Well, it all started when…”
“You alright?” The woman met me at the door of the office. “Sorry about him, he’s not normally so energetic.”
“It’s fine,” I smiled and stretched. “The man seems very eager to explore science, I almost feel bad for him. Chained here to a desk instead of doing research.”
“Most of us are here at this station because we made someone on Terra mad,” she led me to her own office. “The border between the Suns and the Concordat isn’t exactly a dream posting.”
“I bet,” I chuckled as I sipped at my water bottle. “Now, you said something about paperwork, Miss?”
“Rose,” she responded. “And I already have your name, Mr. Hull as well as the account numbers that you provided me with. In order to access them, I’m going to need a bit more than that though. These accounts were absorbed by Comstar after the fall of the Terran Hegemony, and while we’ve kept decent records, there are still some steps that we have to go through for accounts that have been mostly inactive aside from the automatic investments that had been started before the Succession Wars started.”
“Well, Miss Rose, just tell me what I need to fill out and we’ll get started,” I sighed. “I’d rather get all of this stuff out of the way now than later when I’m in a rush to do something.”
“We’re going to be here a while,” the Acolyte replied. “I’ll order a pizza or something.”
“That would be great,” I began looking at the stack set before me. “Just a plain pepperoni or something, I’m not sure I can handle more than that at the moment. It’s been a while.”
“I’ll get that called in while you look through the fine print,” Rose nodded. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”
I hope the ROM don't show up.
Chapter 21
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 21
"Well, that looks to be everything," Rose smiled, entering the last of my paperwork into what looked like a fax machine. "We've got everything scanned, and will send it over to Terra in the morning pulse."
"How soon til I'll be able to access the funds?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, my neck in my hands as I cracked my back against the chair.
"A few days," Rose shuddered. "Can you please not do that, it sounds gross."
"Sure," I chuckled. "I'm just stiff is all."
"Now, was there anything else that Comstar can assist you with?" she yawned, blushing as she realized she had done so.
"Wanted to check and see what the MRB fees are," I shrugged and then glanced at the clock. "But I'm not sure they're awake at this hour."
"Yeah," she yawned again, covering her mouth. "Come on, I'll help you get checked into a hotel that's down the street and then head on home. You can come back in the morning to check on the paperwork's processing an stuff."
I followed the Adept as she left the HPG, the guard I had found sleeping earlier replaced with a much more attentive older man who simply met my eyes and gave me a sharp nod as we left.
"Hotel's about a two hundred and fifty meters that way," Rose pointed down the street. "The prices aren't the best, but they've got good beds, great pillows and a warm breakfast."
"Thanks," I stretched. "At this point, I'd take a flat cot and a slice of toast with butter."
She turned and climbed into a car that was parked nearby, cranking it up and driving away.
Meanwhile, I looked around at the small city that surrounded me before glancing up at the stars.
"What a strange world we live in," I mused, the unfamiliar stars greeting me with their light. "I've seen some of those stars up close, but I couldn't pick them out on a star map."
I sighed as I spotted the sign for the hotel down the street. "Dad would have loved this place, he always was better at winning friends and influencing people."
"Welcome to Breakwater motel," a bored woman glanced up as I entered the lobby. "Can I help you with anything, sir?"
"Yeah, I'd like to book a room," I replied, pulling out some of the cash that I had.
"What size room would you like? "She asked, turning her attention to a notebook. "We're not very busy at the moment and have pretty much everything available."
"I just need a bed and a bathroom," I shrugged. "So whatever the basic room is for the night."
"So, we can do one night for a hundred pounds, or three for a hundred and seventy-five."
"I'll be in town for a little bit," I counted out the cash and handed it to her in exchange for a room key. "The three nights is fine."
"Breakfast is from six to ten in the morning," she gave a small smile. "And room 105 is going to be down the hall to the right."
"Thanks," I tucked the key into my pocket and made my way to the hotel room, collapsing onto the bed and closing my eyes, the exhaustion of a mind that had done nothing but paperwork all day mixed in with the rested body, leaving me unable to sleep.
Stripping down to a pair of shorts, I began to work through a calisthenics routine, spending time working on things until sweat dripped from my face and torso.
"Now time to turn this down," I cranked the A/C level down to about 18 degrees, swearing about the stupid conversions as I did the math in my head to get the real, American temperature. "Then, shower and sleep."
"Well, I'd love to purchase some of these off of ya," a farmer looked at the Jabberwocky that was sitting out on the unloading bay. "But I'm 'fraid none of us round 'ere can afford to pay ya what they'd be worth."
"I'd be willing to make a deal," I tried to change his mind.
"Son," the old farmer shook his head. "We're not exporting a lot at the moment, and I don't aim to treat you wrong. He pointed out in the distance. "I've got plenty of land that I'd love to put to plow, I just ain't got the funds for a machine of that level."
"It's not fusion powered," I shrugged. "And I'm willing to work out a payment plan if nothing else."
"I'll have a talk with some of my kin," he chewed on some tobacco before spitting onto the ground. "We might be able to figure something out."
"I'll be here for a few months," I smiled. "So don't worry about getting back to me immediately."
–
–
"Sorry," Rose smiled sadly. "But Marksmen is already taken by a mercenary group. They're a band of pirate hunters on the OWA's border."
"Damn," I looked at the paperwork. "What about the Marksman?"
"Not taken," She frowned. "But also not very original."
"Not worried about original," I chuckled. "I'm more concerned with finding the right people."
"There's a few militia and retired or discharged vets on Pierce that have been looking for work," Rose printed out a sheet and handed it to me. "No guarantees that they're what you're looking for, but it's at least a place to start. Now, you're settled on the name?"
"Yeah," I signed the paperwork. "And the paperwork for changing the trading company?"
"Right here," she slid over more papers.
I carefully read over everything, noting the amount in the accounts and what investments the late captain had possessed and authorizing the transfer of ownership to the newly created Sharpshooter Industries and Manufacturing Incorporated. Or SIMI as it would eventually be called.
"That's everything," Rose scanned those documents in. "If I have to keep doing this level of paperwork, I might quit though. I signed up to work on cool tech, and got stuck with this."
"Well, I do happen to know someone that's about to be hiring," I smirked.
"I'll think about it," she cracked a smile of her own. "I've got another nine months on this world before I get rotated, so we'll see."
"I'll reach out then," I shook her hand. "Thanks for all of your help."
"I'd say anytime, but if you ever give me that much paperwork again, I might just murder you and hide the body."
"That sounds fair to me," I cracked my wrists and turned to leave the room. "I'll be in touch."
"Looking forward to it, see ya around, Hull."
"This looks like it's it," I glanced up at the lone bar on the street. "Let's see what kind of man you are, Jack Sheppard."
Author's Note: A bit delayed due to some IRL stuffs. Just keep my family in your prayers, please.
"Well, that looks to be everything," Rose smiled, entering the last of my paperwork into what looked like a fax machine. "We've got everything scanned, and will send it over to Terra in the morning pulse."
"How soon til I'll be able to access the funds?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, my neck in my hands as I cracked my back against the chair.
"A few days," Rose shuddered. "Can you please not do that, it sounds gross."
"Sure," I chuckled. "I'm just stiff is all."
"Now, was there anything else that Comstar can assist you with?" she yawned, blushing as she realized she had done so.
"Wanted to check and see what the MRB fees are," I shrugged and then glanced at the clock. "But I'm not sure they're awake at this hour."
"Yeah," she yawned again, covering her mouth. "Come on, I'll help you get checked into a hotel that's down the street and then head on home. You can come back in the morning to check on the paperwork's processing an stuff."
I followed the Adept as she left the HPG, the guard I had found sleeping earlier replaced with a much more attentive older man who simply met my eyes and gave me a sharp nod as we left.
"Hotel's about a two hundred and fifty meters that way," Rose pointed down the street. "The prices aren't the best, but they've got good beds, great pillows and a warm breakfast."
"Thanks," I stretched. "At this point, I'd take a flat cot and a slice of toast with butter."
She turned and climbed into a car that was parked nearby, cranking it up and driving away.
Meanwhile, I looked around at the small city that surrounded me before glancing up at the stars.
"What a strange world we live in," I mused, the unfamiliar stars greeting me with their light. "I've seen some of those stars up close, but I couldn't pick them out on a star map."
I sighed as I spotted the sign for the hotel down the street. "Dad would have loved this place, he always was better at winning friends and influencing people."
"Welcome to Breakwater motel," a bored woman glanced up as I entered the lobby. "Can I help you with anything, sir?"
"Yeah, I'd like to book a room," I replied, pulling out some of the cash that I had.
"What size room would you like? "She asked, turning her attention to a notebook. "We're not very busy at the moment and have pretty much everything available."
"I just need a bed and a bathroom," I shrugged. "So whatever the basic room is for the night."
"So, we can do one night for a hundred pounds, or three for a hundred and seventy-five."
"I'll be in town for a little bit," I counted out the cash and handed it to her in exchange for a room key. "The three nights is fine."
"Breakfast is from six to ten in the morning," she gave a small smile. "And room 105 is going to be down the hall to the right."
"Thanks," I tucked the key into my pocket and made my way to the hotel room, collapsing onto the bed and closing my eyes, the exhaustion of a mind that had done nothing but paperwork all day mixed in with the rested body, leaving me unable to sleep.
Stripping down to a pair of shorts, I began to work through a calisthenics routine, spending time working on things until sweat dripped from my face and torso.
"Now time to turn this down," I cranked the A/C level down to about 18 degrees, swearing about the stupid conversions as I did the math in my head to get the real, American temperature. "Then, shower and sleep."
"Well, I'd love to purchase some of these off of ya," a farmer looked at the Jabberwocky that was sitting out on the unloading bay. "But I'm 'fraid none of us round 'ere can afford to pay ya what they'd be worth."
"I'd be willing to make a deal," I tried to change his mind.
"Son," the old farmer shook his head. "We're not exporting a lot at the moment, and I don't aim to treat you wrong. He pointed out in the distance. "I've got plenty of land that I'd love to put to plow, I just ain't got the funds for a machine of that level."
"It's not fusion powered," I shrugged. "And I'm willing to work out a payment plan if nothing else."
"I'll have a talk with some of my kin," he chewed on some tobacco before spitting onto the ground. "We might be able to figure something out."
"I'll be here for a few months," I smiled. "So don't worry about getting back to me immediately."
–
–
"Sorry," Rose smiled sadly. "But Marksmen is already taken by a mercenary group. They're a band of pirate hunters on the OWA's border."
"Damn," I looked at the paperwork. "What about the Marksman?"
"Not taken," She frowned. "But also not very original."
"Not worried about original," I chuckled. "I'm more concerned with finding the right people."
"There's a few militia and retired or discharged vets on Pierce that have been looking for work," Rose printed out a sheet and handed it to me. "No guarantees that they're what you're looking for, but it's at least a place to start. Now, you're settled on the name?"
"Yeah," I signed the paperwork. "And the paperwork for changing the trading company?"
"Right here," she slid over more papers.
I carefully read over everything, noting the amount in the accounts and what investments the late captain had possessed and authorizing the transfer of ownership to the newly created Sharpshooter Industries and Manufacturing Incorporated. Or SIMI as it would eventually be called.
"That's everything," Rose scanned those documents in. "If I have to keep doing this level of paperwork, I might quit though. I signed up to work on cool tech, and got stuck with this."
"Well, I do happen to know someone that's about to be hiring," I smirked.
"I'll think about it," she cracked a smile of her own. "I've got another nine months on this world before I get rotated, so we'll see."
"I'll reach out then," I shook her hand. "Thanks for all of your help."
"I'd say anytime, but if you ever give me that much paperwork again, I might just murder you and hide the body."
"That sounds fair to me," I cracked my wrists and turned to leave the room. "I'll be in touch."
"Looking forward to it, see ya around, Hull."
"This looks like it's it," I glanced up at the lone bar on the street. "Let's see what kind of man you are, Jack Sheppard."
Author's Note: A bit delayed due to some IRL stuffs. Just keep my family in your prayers, please.
Chapter 22
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 22
The inside of the bar was well-lit, this early in the afternoon, it seemed to function more as a normal restaurant than a place to get drunk in.
"What can I get for you hun?" A pretty waitress asked, her apron stained from obvious use.
"I'll take a sweet tea and a menu for now," I smiled at her. "I'm hoping to meet with one of your regulars if he's around, if not," I shrugged. "Then I'll just enjoy some food and get out of your hair."
"I'll be right back with your drink," she slid a laminated menu over along with an erasable marker. "Just check off the food you want and I'll get that rushed to the back for you."
"Thank you," I set down the fairly thick folder I was carrying and looked through the menu, selecting a handful of options before setting it to the side and opening up the folder to the first candidate I was planning on interviewing.
"Jonathon, "Jack" Sheppard," I read through the file again to refresh my memory. "Discharged from the AFFS after refusing to leave behind a group of infantrymen that had been pinned by combat vehicles. Lost his family's 'mech in the process and has since been working dead-end jobs."
"Here's our tea," the waitress came back with a glass and a straw. "I'll take your menu and be back with the food you ordered."
"Thanks," I nodded, taking a sip of my tea before glancing up and seeing the person that I was looking for walking out with a bus tray in his hands as he collected dishes and took them to the back. "I'll be here waiting."
I watched as Sheppard diligently attended to the task at hand, even if you could tell that he didn't enjoy the work, he was doing it regardless, the few other customers he was interacting with smiling and sharing conversation with him.
As he made his way around to my section I gestured for him to come to my table.
"You wouldn't happen to be Jonathon Sheppard, would you?" I asked.
"It's Jack," he sized me up, noting where I was in the bar. "And it depends on who's asking."
"I'm looking to hire someone to fill a certain role in my unit," I said as I laid some cash on the table. "Regardless of whether you hear me out or not, this is yours," I looked into the brown eyes of a nearly broken man. "I know what it's like to have to struggle to make ends meet."
"Alright," he slid the cash into an apron pocket before taking a seat. "You have thirty minutes to convince me."
"One," I slid his available CSV over the table to him. "I've seen the public data and it doesn't scare me away," I held up my hand and counted off another finger. "Two, I know that your family's mech was destroyed and that you guys had to pay a fortune to get it back. I'm willing to pay that off and let you keep the 'mech that you pilot."
"What's the catch?" Jack interrupted me. "This is too good to be true. Ain't no one care that much about some 'mech jockey who wanted to save some PBIs."
"The catch is that I want you to be committed," I sighed. "I don't just want another 'average' merc unit. I want people that aren't your typical 'mech jocks. I'm looking for the kind of people that are willing to do the sort of thing that got you sacked by your old unit. And I'm willing to pay good money to make sure that you and yours are taken care of if you join up. I know what it's like to be in your shoes, and I don't want you to have to worry about that sort of thing if you work for me."
"Lemme think about it," Sheppard slid out of the booth. "Got a way for me to get in touch with ya?"
"I'm staying at the Breakwater motel," I sipped my tea and tossed the file folder at him. "I've got some other people to talk to, so I might not be there, but the receptionist should be able to take a message for me."
"I'll get in contact when I've got an answer," he picked up the tray from the nearby table and got back to work, the waitress coming up and speaking to him in muted tones.
I watched as Sheppard took the cash I had tipped him and slid it into a shared tip jar instead of keeping it to himself. A smile appearing as I gratefully accepted my food from the waitress.
"Strong moral character," I muttered as I was left alone again. "That is what's important to me."
"Hello, I'm here to speak to Thomas Peterson," I knocked on the door of a fairly large house on the outskirts of this small town, the nearby cattle grazing made me long for the days of building fences with my grandparents on their farm.
"I'm comin'" a large farmer stepped out of the house and onto the porch, his hat held in his hand. "I'm James, Thomas' Pa, he's out in the pasture fixin' somethin' for me. You kin wait here, or we can take a ride," he walked over to an old farm truck, a gun mounted on a rack and an extra fuel tank sitting in the bed.
"I'll come along for the ride," I hopped into the truck after him. "It's been far too long since I've seen a ranch and I'm sure you have some questions for me."
"Yeah, I got a fair few questions," James nodded. "For one, why're you keen on Thomas? He's just a member of the local militia, not like he got much in the way of a military education."
"He's got a college degree and did extremely well in the last pirate raid y'all faced," I shrugged. "He was one of those at the top of the list of recommendations by the local MRB rep when I gave them my requirements."
"So you think he'll be a good little officer in this business of yours?" the dad raised an eyebrow.
"I think he'll take me to task if I give a stupid or unlawful order," I answered honestly. "I'm not looking for a sycophant, I'm looking for the kind of people that are hard to convince, but that once are convinced are behind me all the way. But in the end are still willing to ask the right questions."
"You know that you won't just be taking him along, right?" James glanced over at me. "He's got a girl here, and he's rightly attached at the hip."
"I'm not looking to cause harm," I yawned as I looked out over the grazing cattle. "Just trying to find good men and women to work with. There's too many people out there who'll do anything for money, and I don't want someone who's willing to sell their soul for C-Bills working with me."
"Fair 'nough," the grizzled farmer nodded. "Well, I'll see to it that Thomas at least hears you out, even if he don't want to."
"That's all I can ask for," I changed the subject and started exchanging farm stories with the old man, a smile on my face as we continued over the hills and pasture.
Author's Note: We should be returning to the regular update schedule providing nothing crazy happens over the next few days or weeks.
The inside of the bar was well-lit, this early in the afternoon, it seemed to function more as a normal restaurant than a place to get drunk in.
"What can I get for you hun?" A pretty waitress asked, her apron stained from obvious use.
"I'll take a sweet tea and a menu for now," I smiled at her. "I'm hoping to meet with one of your regulars if he's around, if not," I shrugged. "Then I'll just enjoy some food and get out of your hair."
"I'll be right back with your drink," she slid a laminated menu over along with an erasable marker. "Just check off the food you want and I'll get that rushed to the back for you."
"Thank you," I set down the fairly thick folder I was carrying and looked through the menu, selecting a handful of options before setting it to the side and opening up the folder to the first candidate I was planning on interviewing.
"Jonathon, "Jack" Sheppard," I read through the file again to refresh my memory. "Discharged from the AFFS after refusing to leave behind a group of infantrymen that had been pinned by combat vehicles. Lost his family's 'mech in the process and has since been working dead-end jobs."
"Here's our tea," the waitress came back with a glass and a straw. "I'll take your menu and be back with the food you ordered."
"Thanks," I nodded, taking a sip of my tea before glancing up and seeing the person that I was looking for walking out with a bus tray in his hands as he collected dishes and took them to the back. "I'll be here waiting."
I watched as Sheppard diligently attended to the task at hand, even if you could tell that he didn't enjoy the work, he was doing it regardless, the few other customers he was interacting with smiling and sharing conversation with him.
As he made his way around to my section I gestured for him to come to my table.
"You wouldn't happen to be Jonathon Sheppard, would you?" I asked.
"It's Jack," he sized me up, noting where I was in the bar. "And it depends on who's asking."
"I'm looking to hire someone to fill a certain role in my unit," I said as I laid some cash on the table. "Regardless of whether you hear me out or not, this is yours," I looked into the brown eyes of a nearly broken man. "I know what it's like to have to struggle to make ends meet."
"Alright," he slid the cash into an apron pocket before taking a seat. "You have thirty minutes to convince me."
"One," I slid his available CSV over the table to him. "I've seen the public data and it doesn't scare me away," I held up my hand and counted off another finger. "Two, I know that your family's mech was destroyed and that you guys had to pay a fortune to get it back. I'm willing to pay that off and let you keep the 'mech that you pilot."
"What's the catch?" Jack interrupted me. "This is too good to be true. Ain't no one care that much about some 'mech jockey who wanted to save some PBIs."
"The catch is that I want you to be committed," I sighed. "I don't just want another 'average' merc unit. I want people that aren't your typical 'mech jocks. I'm looking for the kind of people that are willing to do the sort of thing that got you sacked by your old unit. And I'm willing to pay good money to make sure that you and yours are taken care of if you join up. I know what it's like to be in your shoes, and I don't want you to have to worry about that sort of thing if you work for me."
"Lemme think about it," Sheppard slid out of the booth. "Got a way for me to get in touch with ya?"
"I'm staying at the Breakwater motel," I sipped my tea and tossed the file folder at him. "I've got some other people to talk to, so I might not be there, but the receptionist should be able to take a message for me."
"I'll get in contact when I've got an answer," he picked up the tray from the nearby table and got back to work, the waitress coming up and speaking to him in muted tones.
I watched as Sheppard took the cash I had tipped him and slid it into a shared tip jar instead of keeping it to himself. A smile appearing as I gratefully accepted my food from the waitress.
"Strong moral character," I muttered as I was left alone again. "That is what's important to me."
"Hello, I'm here to speak to Thomas Peterson," I knocked on the door of a fairly large house on the outskirts of this small town, the nearby cattle grazing made me long for the days of building fences with my grandparents on their farm.
"I'm comin'" a large farmer stepped out of the house and onto the porch, his hat held in his hand. "I'm James, Thomas' Pa, he's out in the pasture fixin' somethin' for me. You kin wait here, or we can take a ride," he walked over to an old farm truck, a gun mounted on a rack and an extra fuel tank sitting in the bed.
"I'll come along for the ride," I hopped into the truck after him. "It's been far too long since I've seen a ranch and I'm sure you have some questions for me."
"Yeah, I got a fair few questions," James nodded. "For one, why're you keen on Thomas? He's just a member of the local militia, not like he got much in the way of a military education."
"He's got a college degree and did extremely well in the last pirate raid y'all faced," I shrugged. "He was one of those at the top of the list of recommendations by the local MRB rep when I gave them my requirements."
"So you think he'll be a good little officer in this business of yours?" the dad raised an eyebrow.
"I think he'll take me to task if I give a stupid or unlawful order," I answered honestly. "I'm not looking for a sycophant, I'm looking for the kind of people that are hard to convince, but that once are convinced are behind me all the way. But in the end are still willing to ask the right questions."
"You know that you won't just be taking him along, right?" James glanced over at me. "He's got a girl here, and he's rightly attached at the hip."
"I'm not looking to cause harm," I yawned as I looked out over the grazing cattle. "Just trying to find good men and women to work with. There's too many people out there who'll do anything for money, and I don't want someone who's willing to sell their soul for C-Bills working with me."
"Fair 'nough," the grizzled farmer nodded. "Well, I'll see to it that Thomas at least hears you out, even if he don't want to."
"That's all I can ask for," I changed the subject and started exchanging farm stories with the old man, a smile on my face as we continued over the hills and pasture.
Author's Note: We should be returning to the regular update schedule providing nothing crazy happens over the next few days or weeks.