The two Rev Cs flew all out towards the station, turbo flaring metre long pillars of fire out of both ships in second-long bursts before the battery gave in and needed to re-fill. The neon blue was slightly ahead by about half a metre as they entered the no fire zone, territory of the station traffic control, the STC. Both the pilots received the same message;
"Cease turboing and fly on the following vector coming in on speed 50 m/s, reply."
None of the ships paid it any attention though and continued the race towards the single official CLM docking bay, the neon blue inching slightly ahead with every cycle of battery re-charging. The distance between the two fighters was slightly lessened as they both attempted to go for the direct course for the single fighter bay. The radio crackled again, this time the voice had just a tinge of panic to it.
"I repeat, cease turboing and follow your vector."
The distance to the docking bay was now 230 metres and the STC sounded the impact command, the lights flashing inside the docking bay and the dockhands were scrambling for cover. Still, the neon blue fighter inched ahead and would finish half a fighter ahead of the pink one. The distance closed to 30 metres and the neon fighter applied the reverse thrusters at full power to stop its forward momentum and dock at the reasonable speed of 80m/s. The pink fighter disregarded the forward thrusters and flipped head over tail before firing the turbo thruster at full power, docking metres before the neon blue ship arrived. The docking cradle clicked and cycled, exactly in time to receive the other fighter. For a second the only sounds inside the docking bay were the impact warning klaxons and the pinging of metal cooling rapidly. The cockpit popped open on the two Centurions and the pilots jumped out. Azumi grinned like the Chestershire cat at Retractile while ignoring the police force that was running towards their docking bays.
"I won, you lost! You owe big time Retract!"
Retractile shook his head but couldn't stop grinning like a mad man.
"Crap you are crazy Az. All right, I'll do it."
The young woman jumped while pumping her fists to the sides.
"Yes, it is going to be FUN!"
Behind them the four station police officers had stopped and were swinging their stun sticks while pondering what to do. The manual was clear, detain the pilots and fine them through the nose. Reality, however, had a way of disregarding the manual somehow. These were not just pilots; these were CLM pilots and some of the more volatile. The sergeant decided that the solution in the manual should at least be attempted and stepped forward.
"You two, lay down your weapons and stand to. You are under arrest"
Initially they reacted as they should, both of them ceasing movement and stopped speaking, well almost. A normal citizen should fear and respect the station police, obey the given commands and do it promptly. This was going to turn out okay, he thought. Until the female pilot turned, that is, twirling her pigtails while grabbing a lollipop and securing it firmly between arterial blood red lips that framed a perfect innocent smile. The three dimples that were beneath her eyes on each side enhanced the almost too large green eyes.
"I am sorry officer, was that to us?"
When he afterwards thought about it, the sergeant realised that this was the exact time it went wrong.
"Be silent wench. Do as I told you or face the consequences."
She smiled innocently and twirled the lollipop before taking it out with an audible pop. That was the signal that Retractile had waited for, or rather yearned for. He moved quickly forward towards the policemen before they could rip their attention from Azumi and impacted with his elbow directly in the sternum of one of the guards. Not slowing at all, he used the momentum to drive himself into the next guard that the hooked with a foot behind the knee and a body slam, causing him to fly backwards and land heavily on his bottom. The sergeant and remaining policeman turned but too slow as Retractile twisted, regained his balance and kicked up and sideways catching the policeman under the chin and sending him out cold. The sergeant should have defended himself but the pirate was simply too close. He stopped, Retractile in front of him.
"I think you have mistaken us for someone that actually listens to the pigs."
Retractile grinned and hammered his forehead into the face of the policeman, sending him to the floor. He turned again and wiped the blood off his bald head while nodding to Azumi.
"Sweet Az, I actually feel better now."
She tiptoed over the prone policemen to his side, took his arm in her and guided him into the station.
###
The briefing room was precisely as they had left it, dark and un-personal now with two cups of cold koffee in styrofoam containers. Cat crashed into the front chair and waited for the commander to arrive; after all it was his debriefing. She read through the papers she had just signed without really looking at the meaning while the fight kept on playing in the back of her head. She was outclassed by that pirate but had put up a good fight. If only the other escorts had fought the pink Centurion, the traders would have gone through. Cowards. Footsteps from the corridor announced the arrival of Aliec and his appendix and she collected the papers, stuffing them into her thigh pocket. The two other pilots didn't even greet her as they walked into the room with Tjulekso taking a seat and Aliec seating himself on the edge of the table in front of them. Aliec grabbed some papers from his pocket and leafed through them slowly, nodding as he went along. Finishing them all, he looked up.
"That was not good at all. I am afraid that we will not be getting our pay for this mission as all the ships were destroyed along the route and they blame us for it."
He looked into his papers again before looking up at Cat.
"And it was primarily your fault Ms. Plissensky."
"Excuse me?"
"I ordered you to engage the pirates in order for us to get the convoy off to safety. You failed."
"What the.. I engaged the pirate as you told me to, I fought as well as I could but.."
"No buts, you failed and thus you are responsible for the destruction of the convoy. As you attested to by signing the papers."
"I did what? No I didn't, I signed that I was responsible for my own ship."
Aliec looked down at the papers and read aloud.
"I hereby declare that I were responsible for the destruction of the ships in convoy yada yada. Signed Catherine Plissensky, this is your signature, right?"
Cat looked at the paper, grabbed her own identical one and felt a sinking sensation slowly drain all feeling out of her. She had just agreed to pay for the losses that the convoy had sustained, probably millions of credits. Surely HCSC had some kind of insurance that covered losses like this. She looked over at Tjulekso and saw him hide his face by staring into the floor away from her. The truth slowly dawned upon her; she was the insurance.
"No way Aliec. I am not paying for your incompetence and mismanagement."
She got up and headed for the door but was intercepted by Aliec's voice.
"Screw you toaster. Take your self-righteous ass out of here. You are fired anyway. You already paid, I made sure of that."
She turned and was about to say something but decided that it wasn't worth it. She had to go and collect whatever money she could get out of her accounts before they emptied them completely.
###
The sobbing person sitting on the bed in the back of the room had at one time been a large muscular man but had now been reduced to something more sinister and wrecked. Empty bottles of cheap liquor were scattered around the floor, mixed with dirty clothes, crumpled paper and half eaten food packages. The smell of unwashed body, alcohol, spoiled food and blood was almost tangible but didn't seem to affect the person. Tears streamed down his dirty face from red eyes that continued to stare at the, by now, stained and torn picture of a slender woman with straw coloured hair he held in his left hand. The right hand guided a half empty plastic bottle of XX pure Synth Grain Wodka to his lips and he sucked deeply from the nipple, almost emptying the bottle. The drink did what it was supposed to and the tears slowly dried, the picture fell to the floor and the man got up from the bed.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and found the trusty straight razor, cradling it for comfort. Ignoring the filth on the floor he ploughed his way out of the room scattering it everywhere. He got out into the semi-abandoned maintenance corridor and walked shakily towards the launch bay. A pair of techs entered the corridor but on seeing him shamble towards them turned around and found another way. He encountered no others on the way to the matte blue combat scared Centaur III, which was probably for the best. Once inside the cockpit his vast experience took over and he launched without even noticing. Someone was surely going to die now.
###
Riddik was bored to tears. He had flown long combat missions, flown overwatch, flown escorts and even endured the 18-hour long shifts when he was duty officer in SCAR. But nothing, NOTHING really compared in boredom to these trading missions he felt he had to fulfil for the sake of his guild TGFT. He had tried flying to music, tried reading a book while flying, tried recreative drugs and even some stuff he wasn't prepared to share but little did it help. He felt his entire body rebel against the mindless, numbing, tear-bringing, brain-draining but unfortunately highly profitable work. He only had to do this last mission for today and then he could go ravage the bars of Aeolus Trading Prefect. And even that would not be the same as before, Keria would not be there, probably flying on some combat mission somewhere deep in smurfland. There, last jump and his radar picked the station up before he could see it through the chainglass visor. Disgusted by the massive bulk of the Behemoth he nonetheless flew the ship as he would any other ship, with great care and elegance. He somehow managed to dock the large trade vessel as graciously as if it had been a Centurion, felt the docking clamps engage by the small tremor through the hull plates and powered the Behemoth down. He practically jumped out of the ship and started walking towards the station proper, propeller cap proudly on his head. One thing he had yet to figure out, was how he could get a uniform in his size instead of this cling fit uncomfortable flight suit. As one of the only Serco pilots in TGFT he could imagine that the need for the XXXXXXXXXL suits he needed, had until now not existed. He was not going to let that stop him anyway, he was going for a drink, too small suit or not!
