The Capitalist, Registered Merchant Ship
Observer Class
Position: Sol's Edge, InnerRim
Co'ords: classified
Have you ever gotten a warning from a good friend that you didn't pay enough attention to? That went in one ear and out the other because you thought they were hyperventilating a li'l bit? Only to find out later that your friend was absolutely correct to warn you?
There's a slow realization that you, as a proper villain, should pay attention to all warnings received while also realizing that one, it's probably too late now and two, that sharp sting feeling in that bottom corner of your gut that makes your feet chill, eyes widen – is the truth.
Well.
That moment is now.
I can NOT disregard this piece of comm addressed to my commanding officer lacking the appropriate security protocol that just scrolled across my screen. These protocols exist to prevent this exact scenario from happening in the first place!
I exhale loudly, sink into my chair, and belatedly remember to maintain composure. I just don't believe this! Why would you send this unsecured to the general message loop for any comm officer to see this?! Why did I have to see this!!
Is there anyone I could tell?
Look Eds – your op is off-books without auth along with the rest of these ops! You already know that! You're not above anybody so get OFF top deck and line up! Keep your mouth shut, your peeps in line and get it done or I'll replace ALL of you and you DON'T want that on Revolution's Eve, your loyalty questioned! Out!
Colonel Farley
Should I tell anyone?
First off, I'm at the mainhelm on the bridge of this ship as the mainhelm pilot, not the comm officer. That's Lito, who's currently off-post assisting with the cargo transfer since Eds wanted all-hands, except me. We're in the middle of mostly nowhere between the Pioneer's Arc and InnerRim meeting up with a go-between cargo ship and I'm sitting boards to cover meanwhile. My duties? Route calls, answer questions, connect folks, run short and long-range scans and keep an eye on the cargo holds. I won't have any nav duties for a while, at least six real hours and the rest of the navboard are off shift on break.
Who can I tell?
Well, I wouldn't be the excellent intelligence officer that I am without first making a copy of this comm by snap-shooting it to my looplink – just in case! Then I add the proper security protocols and route it to Eds, our commanding officer.
What should I tell?
I have so many questions!
I catch myself looking around the bridge to see if my reaction was noticed by anyone. Especially since mainhelm sits in the middle of the bridge with posts sitting around it in a half-circle. Looks like business as usual. Plus, it's only me and Raven on the bridge with a couple of the "real" merchies we have aboard helping us. My curiosity peaks, I have nothing else to do (mostly) and I need these questions answered. So! Unlike Colonel Farley, I'm going to initiate a query on deeplink in private-secure mode since we're in range of a CLUSA-point.
The questions: who is this guy? What's the meaning of this comm? Why're they sending this to Eds, of all people? He's such a rule stickler, are they even sending this to the right guy? Farley does name Eds in the beginning so.... what's Eds – ol' sanctimonious snitch with a receding hairline – up to? If Command didn't auth this op – who did? We were told that we're the tip of the Revolution's sword so...what's going on? Looks like Colonel Eric Farley is a talent recruiter over on The Gaian...
Do I need to do something about this?
This is unbelievable.
What is going on here?
I get that old familiar excited-dread tingle coursing my body with one side of my mind saying "act like you didn't see that" whereas the other side of my mind is going, "YES! More please!" Argh. Of course, being me, I just can't look away and mind my business. Oh no, that's too much like right. I need to dive in, figure this out and get the clips on this so I can know what's up on shift-change.
Ugh.
Ok – what's a talent recruiter, first of all, got to do with what we're doing anyway? He shouldn't even have the clearance...and he doesn't. Talent recruiters are peep relations, contract makers and signers. We're goods procurement (for the time being) specializing in hard-to-get cargo straight off the MamaRock itself and running it straight to New Gaia – livestock, plants, animal embryos, seeds, perishable and non-perishable foodstuff, equipment, sometimes people and credchips no longer associated with their owners – all duty free.
That gut cringe strikes back which only serves to remind me...
I got this somewhat ill-received warning right before we shipped out on this op, back over on Tayman's End in the Delicatessen of the Four Suns from a very good friend of mine who's more than a friend, she's my fiancée-wife.
My fiancée-wife.... the woman of my dreams, is a starkisser with a star6 rating whose callsign is The Sauce because that's what she is – the foundation, that rock of competence of getting the job done right every time. People don't usually mess with her; they give her a wide berth, finding her somewhat intimidating. But that's not who I know. She's all that but also deeply caring, a genuine sweet soul that you can count on to fight for you and have your back, that'll hold you steady.
I remember clearly and fondly the first time I ever saw her – a living, breathing work of art, poetry in motion floating down station decks with her hair flapping in the wind, laughing heartily with her girlfriends as heavenly music seemed to play overhead. Love at first sight! She was way outta my lane, but I just had to know her name at the very least. It'd be an honor to learn her favorites, her dislikes, what helps her see another day, what moves her soul to do what she does while radiating such warmth and strength. How could I be a part of that picture and bask in that supernova smile of hers?
Cheyenne Dakota Anne Ellington-Harland – gorgeous with a body people would die for that she's embarrassed of, intelligent, witty, ultra-reliable with a no-nonsense gut instinct like a pair of short and long-range scanners that are usually right – earned through tragedy. I could slap myself right now for blowing off her warning – I well know that keen instinct. I don't know how I could've avoided all this but still...
Fine time to think about that.
At any rate, I digress, we were at our usual table in the Delicatessen, eating our usual and she was busy chattering on about our ops, team gossip and overall shenanigans that I wasn't paying that much attention to because I was gazing into those gorgeous, soulful, wide brown eyes of hers that know more than they tell, imagining us growing old together with babies running around our quarters,
"Are you listening?" Sauce demanded of a sudden it seemed.
"Of course!" I lied.
"No, you weren't!"
I grabbed her hands, kissed them. "I was imagining us growing old together with babies!"
"Ohh..." she grinned widely and there was that brilliant, supernova smile I live for! Her whole face lit up, with those high cheekbones, full lips complimented with the right side of her hair braided in an intricate pattern while the rest was in a coily afro puff, looking absolutely amazing in her natural skin. "Fly boy! We gonna need a permit first!"
"I know but no harm in future thinking!"
"True...that would be good though...my own live-in physician AND starkisser!" she laughed.
"I'm good at multi-tasking love, doncha know! When you gonna sign already? You still wanna do this thing, right?" I raised an eyebrow at her.
"Of course! Been busy is all."
"Hm." I grunted, thinking – there really is no need for a hold-up.
"Well, they got me running back-n-forth over your homespace,"
"Oh...yeah. I know." I sank into my chair.
"And they're fritzing out over the Front and side-eyeing me like, woncha ask your Front-side man what's up on shift-change!" she stared at me with her eyebrow raised.
"It's concerning but they mean well." I said.
"Jay." Sauce directly eyeballed me, hard. "The Front's smacking revolution. You're not worried?!"
"No!" I shrugged off. She eyeballed me even harder. "No 'cause let's face it – this system we live under isn't just. It only benefits EarthSol while we're struggling, stifled and hungry. We just wanna be able to go where we wanna go, do what we want without EarthSol in our pocket with unearned kickbacks. No harm in that. You're an earthie-lover?"
Sauce snatched her hand back. "No!"
"We want what all spacers want – the opt to stick it to Earth, best way poss."
"True but!" Sauce held up a finger, leaned into the table and lowered her voice after quickly looking around. "What's a buncha dead spies nobody even knows are alive doing smuggling cargo?!"
I frowned, lowered my voice while leaning into the table. "It's not smuggling! It's an end-run 'round trade routes!"
"Otherwise known as smuggling. Moving cans off-boards bypasses EarthSol's taxation – something you know I know all about. I know how those nums run." She sat back, arms folded.
"I know. However! I say that whatever we're doing its sanctioned by Command and it's for our own good."
"Why not get some merchies to do that? I'll tell you why – 'cause if it goes left, dead spies know how to shoot back and scatter whereas merchies'll lose their contracts and reps. What you NEED to be is worried and watching your six, flyboy."
"Much ado 'bout noth." I shrugged off.
"What's the cargo then?"
I was regretting telling her the little I shouldn't have. "Don't wanna know." I lied, somewhat, while sipping my orangeade.
Sauce exhaled loudly, knowingly while she slightly shook her head. "That op goes left, I hope y'all can move fast enough to dodge it...I'm worried Jay. I know you won't take a transfer to my unit."
"You sign that marriage license sometime before the universe blows up, we'll see about that."
She deeply smiled despite it all. "Slick!"
I re-grabbed her hands, held them while I admired her arms since she was wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit that also hugged her curves. "Join me." I directly eyeballed her.
"I am. We've been apart far too long."
"Frontside." I specified. Sauce paused and I let her hands drop. "Just easier, that's all, for now. We had good times when we lived in the Front before, you know it better than lotsa these peeps."
"True...ah, why not?" Her brilliant smile was back and I basked in that terawatt grin. "I guess...these shenanigans Jay, I don't like it. I think the Front's taking advantage of your life stat so they can burn y'all if it goes left." Worry crossed her face.
"There'll always be some-else up on shift-change, it's the nature of the business and the deal, you just may end up dead – for real this time. Can't be paralyzed by it. Though, it'll be better together but I do appreciate your concern, truly. You know, I always watch my six babe but I do think that whatever's burnin', it's opt-sanct. They never tell us everything anyway so, guess that's why I'm not concerned? It'll be okay. Don't worry!" I assured her.
Fast forward to now.
Exhale.