11 February 3307 – 1930

I awoke before my alarm this morning to quiet hiss of an automated delivery arriving in the mail slot of my room.  I thought I was dreaming still at first as I had not had much time for the luxury of living on a planet in the past couple of months.  As the fog of sleep cleared, I realized where I was and took a moment to find the controls for the lights in the room.

Standing, I reached for the robe that I had hung next to my bed.  The events of the previous morning were still vivid in my mind and I had no desire to relive the issues of modesty in a polite society any time soon.  After checking to see that my body was properly covered, I walked out into the living area of the flat that had been assigned to me.

The opulent room was still staggering to my mind.  The space had to cost a fortune for the amenities that were provided.  I wondered how much it would cost me for staying here.

The locks had been preset unlock when presented with my biometric data, perhaps even the DNA particulars that the sensor picked up when I came within range of some unobserved scanner.  I had heard the locks click when I walked to within a meter of the door.  That type of locking system was expensive enough in itself.  The other side of the main double door was an even greater shock than that small amenity.

Inside lay a huge flat with two master bedrooms, both with private bathing rooms, a fully functional kitchen, and a 65 square meter guest entertainment area with wall of glass separating it from a walk out ground floor patio that opened to a lush green garden.  I found that these glass walls had a feature that would opaque the windows at the touch of a button, allowing guests and residents to have privacy from outside observers.

The flat was more than just opulent.  It was personalized.  After the initial shock of the scale of the accommodations had passed, my eyes were drawn to the center piece of the entertainment room:  My father’s family crest hung on the most prominent wall, much larger than I had ever seen before, with even the background color of the tapestry being the exact color crimson that I had seen in our home back on Cubeo.  As I continued to look around, I noticed that immaculate care had been taken to ensure that the accent colors of the rooms augment but not overpower the prominence of the hanging crest.

It was no wonder that I thought I was still in a dream.  It was also no wonder why I felt like I was walking into a trap, like a lamb being fattened before being led to the slaughter.  Still, the treatment was nice.  

Did all guests to the Imperial Palace suffer such luxuries as I?  The Empire was considered the height of dignity and opulence and therefore it would not surprise me if all visitors were treated as richly as I was enjoying now.  Still, it was a far cry from the cozy little staterooms that privately owned vessels were equipped with.

The package had been delivered to a waiting table in the foyer of the flat.  My anxiety began to creep up as I noticed that even this had the trappings of personalization beyond my station.  I wasn’t much more than a simple pilot, and one who had been orphaned by circumstance, in Empire that spanned hundreds of lightyears filled with trillions of people.  What was so special about me?

Atop the package was a simple letter, written on a paper that seemed to be made from a velum that cast muted rainbows across its surface as the light hit it.  This made more sense to me as it indicated the source of the note and the package:  The Prismatic Imperium.

“Lady Targus, your presence is required at the Imperial ceremonial grounds within the Palace compound at 1000 this morning.  Liberty has been taken to provide you with the appropriate attire for today’s events in case you were unable to pack for the even.  Please accept the gift with our deepest appreciation for your service.

“As a reminder, jewelry is permitted at this event, however you will not wear any hats or other such head adornments.  No special modifications to skin, hair, or other body stylistic changes need be made.  Above all, do not be late as the decorum of the situation would present this as a severe distain for all of those in attendance. – T.”

After reading the note, I looked suspiciously at the package.  I had a sinking suspicion I was not going to like what was inside of it.  I took a deep breath and opened the box, praying it wasn’t formal wear.

The dress inside the box was more beautiful than anything I had ever owned.  Made from a material that felt like silk but stretched slightly like elastic, the simple yet elegant dress reminded me greatly of the dignified business style outfits that was in style among the royal members of the Imperial Senate.  It was obviously another gift from the Prismatic Imperium as the color was an opaque off-white that had what looked like glass strands running through.  These had the effect of catching the light and making the dress appear to have been made of living rainbows when the light caught it.

The only thing that did not make sense was the two crests on the shoulders, fully visible only when viewing the wearer of the dress from the sides.  They were exact replicas of my family’s crest.  While it was not unheard of for actual royalty to wear their family crests while in court, my title of Lord was only perfunctory.  It was a statement of rank within the Imperial Naval Auxiliary.  I was not real royalty and wearing this would be a social faux pas for me.

The alternative wasn’t much better though.  The only other clothing I owned here was the flight suit I had in the steam closet.  Then again, there was this robe.  I guess my mind had been made up by this “T” person.

As I donned the dress, I realized that there was one last gift in the box.  Wrapped in a fine soft cloth that almost matched the dress I found a pair of earrings that appeared to be some form of bird.  I connected Mother to the room’s scanners and had her examine them.  The earrings were identical to the most precise measurements, cut from a deep crimson variety of low-temperature diamonds into the shape of a mythological creature from old Earth.  Mother told me that the bird was called a phoenix.

The rest of the morning was of a similar dream to me.  The engagement that I was to attend turned out to be a recognition ceremony, held by Princess Duval herself.  I may have been stunning in appearance, but there was nothing in me that came close to comparing to how beautiful she was.  The term human goddess comes to mind.

The other guests there were commenting on how we among the younger crowd were taking to coloring our hair the shades of gemstones.  When I presented myself to her, Princess Duval smiled as she made similar comments as to how my deep crimson-ruby red hair contrasted nicely with her bright sapphire locks.  Then she floored me with her next statement.

“I appreciate all you have done for me and the Empire, Lady Targus,” she said softly for only me to hear.  “I look forward to following your career more closely in the future.”

Then in a louder, much more commanding voice, she announced, “I would like to recognize Lady Targus and her tireless devotion to the Empire.  By the authority of my office, I hereby recognize her achievements by granting her the title of Lady Targus, Duchess of the BLAA EORK RQ-Y C3-6 system.”

She had said similar words about others in the courtyard before me, however I had not paid much attention.  Most of them had been peacocks, straining and striving for attention.  All I was straining and striving for was anonymity.  Now I felt naked as all eyes turned to the Princess and I at her words and my shock was evident on my face.  The recognition she gave me had not been expected by anyone except the military personnel in attendance.

I must have looked like I was about to pass out because a gentleman came alongside me and took my arm leading me out of the courtyard.  We ended up in his office where he sat patiently waiting for my hysterics to calm down.  He had Herculean patience, waiting almost two full hours for me to regain my composure.  He needed to with the next bomb he was about to drop on me.

Everything that had happened in the last week since my return to the Bubble had been perfectly orchestrated to establish a cover story for me.  The events at Serene Harbour had made the Admiralty realize that their heavy reliance on Imperial Intelligence could be a tactical shortcoming with how deeply the NMLA had been able to penetrate their ranks.  The Navy was creating its own fallback plan.

That was not to say that my title was a fraud.  He showed me the official paperwork that established a hereditary title for my descendants in the BLAA EORK RQ-Y C3-6 system. It was not much more than a ruse, however, as that system lay almost 2300 lightyears from Cemiess.  As a noble in the Imperial Court, I would be required to present myself in a ship of battle, should the Empire ever find itself in a war again, for the defense of the Empire.  That was just protocol.

My new rank provided a diplomatic cover story to my position as a spy.  Outwardly, I was to be a beautiful, eccentric duchess from the Empire who worked as a diplomatic aid to the Ambassador to Shadow President Winters.  Reading between the lines, I was to be eye-candy to distract the Federal spy hunters in Rhea from finding my partner.  Secretly though, I was to be paired with an agent as that person’s handler, the one who gave them missions and logistical support. The Admiral handed me another set of orders and told me that my next time hack was 1600 on Balandin Gateway in the Rhea system.  He also noted that there was the implied task of checking in with the Imperial Diplomatic detachment in Sol before arriving in Rhea, so I had best move quickly.

Looking to the chrono on the wall, I had 90 minutes to make it to Rhea.  I would have to synth a new flight suit enroute.  I was about to find out if one could pilot a ship in a dress.  I guess the dress could go once I got into orbit, but …

My timing was impeccable, as I arrive at the Diplomatic attaché office on Baladin Gateway with twenty minutes to spare.  Now I am just waiting to find out the next part of my mission.  Hopefully, it will be to meet my agent.  I wonder who this new person in my life will be…

10 February 3307 – 1930

My head is whirling.  So much has happened that I am still trying to process all of it.  Hopefully, writing it out like this will help me figure out everything.  Perhaps it might even help me understand why I am coming into land at Mackenzie Relay with a shuttle waiting to take me down to the Imperial Palace on Emerald.

I landed around 2200 at Chelomey Orbital, the Coriolis Station orbiting my home planet in the Cubeo system.  I was told that there had been some maintenance issues with the station by the workers at the dock as I disembarked the Prodromoi.   The result was that the sparse stateroom I purchased on board Chelomey was dark when I walked in.  The only exception was a few digital displays here and there around the room.  

I would have to inform maintenance onboard the station that the lights were out in my room.

The lack of light left me quite disoriented when I received a call the Imperial Naval Auxiliary Office.  The call came in around 0330 this morning to let me know that they had my follow-on orders for me.  The Ensign who called me seemed surprised at the lack of light from my side of the screen.  His face began to smirk as he talked, and I could tell by his tone and facial expressions that he thought he had caught me in the middle of “extracurricular activities”.  I guess the lack of light from my side of the screen and my disheveled appearance that was being picked up by the tiny digital display on the comms panel did convey that kind of message, but he didn’t have to telegraph his thoughts into the conversation.  

Even though I wouldn’t mind that kind of attention, the young Ensign lightyears off on his evaluation of the situation.  The lack of light did provide me with one comfort though:  I hadn’t had a chance to put on any clothes before I answered the holo.  I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the ramifications of “that” conversation this morning, so I was happy for that small mercy.

I got up and showered quickly (not easy in almost absolute darkness), donned my uniform, and then headed down to the Naval Auxiliary offices to retrieve the orders that had been left there for me.  I was not fully awake yet and the lack of a good cup of tea had left me a bit on the grouchy side.  My heart fell when I saw the same Ensign sitting behind the desk when I walked in.

Remembering the conversation with a touch of satisfaction, I guess I could have handled what happened next with a bit more decorum.  It would not have been anywhere near as satisfying though.  Sometimes, people need to be put in their place.  

“I trust you had a memorable evening, Commander?”  He said as he looked up and recognized my face.  A smirk was beginning to bloom there, and it appeared that he was about to start saying things that his rank couldn’t handle.  Officers in active Imperial Naval service often looked down on those of us who filled the ranks of the auxiliary.  We among the auxiliary were often harassed by those in active service because they did not believe our opinions mattered.  It was even worse for females as the males often made innuendos about us, at times even openly asking for “favors” of us.

I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of that today.  I didn’t like where this was going, and I did not want to deal with him hitting on me.  It was time to end this part of the discussion with the force of a neutron explosion.

“Are you always so casual, Ensign?”  I asked with a stern, but sweet tone in my voice.

The laugh in his eyes became questions as looked me over more closely.  His eyes finally locked on to my collar and my rank insignia:  Lord in the Imperial Naval Auxiliary.  He paled as his eyes widened in surprise.  “Nnnno, no, Milady.  Please accept my humblest apologies for my mistake, Milady.  I thought you were someone else.”

“And just whom did you think I was, Ensign?”

“I was expecting a Commander Targus, Milady,” he answered, his voice growing shaky.

“That would be me, Ensign.  I am Commander Targus, and I hold the title of Lord as you can see.  I would appreciate a less familiar greeting next time.  Lady Targus or Commander Targus would have been much more appropriate, Ensign.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded quickly.

I gave him a hard cold look at this point.  If it were possible, I think he paled even more.  I was enjoying this too much.

“Good, Ensign, because if we have to have this conversation again, I will make it my life’s work to ensure you get assigned somewhere on the frontier, such as the Coalsack.  Have you ever seen a Thargoid up close?”  His face became a mask of horror at this comment.  “I will take your response as an affirmation of your understanding of the situation.  I would like my orders please.”

He handed them to me, and I spun on my heel and walked to the docks.  Mother informed me through my comm link that the Navy had begun fueling and rearming my Fer-de-Lance, so I asked her to transfer herself to that ship.  I looked at the envelope containing my orders and wondered if the day was going to warrant taking my combat vessel.

The envelope bore the seal of the imperial Diplomatic Corps.  I had been hoping to hunt the pirates I had been baiting a couple of days ago, but diplomats didn’t usually work out their issues with lasers and multicannons.  Ambassadors only used “aggressive negotiations like that when words failed to resolve issues.

I waited to open my orders until we were launched and out of the station, just as protocol dictated.  My heart dropped:  It seemed that I was being assigned to help facilitate the oversight of the elections occurring in the Mainani system by ferrying results from Mies Van Der Rohe’s Claim to Hickam Survey in the Ngalinn system.  Another Commander had been assigned to the area to convey the results to Fletter Survey in Ativas.  The entire effort was to ensure that pirates in the area, a group called the Ngalinn Pirates, did not disrupt the elections.

The work went smoothly but was rather fast paced.  In all, I think I was interdicted four times.  The last time was around 1100 when I decided to get a bit pissy with the pirates harassing me.

The interdiction began when a cheeky kid pulled me out of supercruise with a Sidewinder.  I don’t know what he was thinking trying to pull and FDL out of supercruise with a stock Sidewinder, but he won’t make that mistake again.  Leaning on the superior agility of my FDL and my engineered thrusters, I dropped in behind his craft and melted his thrusters.  It probably would have ended there, but he began screaming profanities at me over the comms, so I gifted him a dozen corrosive rounds from my multicannon into his powerplant.  The last glimpse that I had of him, his escape pod was slowly tumbling towards the Ngalinn star.

If he was lucky, the authorities picked him up.  If not, well, he probably got a little hot under the collar.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, or so the old saying goes.

The election ended at 1700 and I was told that the results matched at all three tally sites.  My last missions of the day were to hunt down and destroy the Ngalinn pirates, including their leader Odob.  It seems that they were also one of the links in the conveyance of the “stolen materials” from my earlier mining missions.

When I turned in my bounties from those missions, Mother informed me that I had a mission from Governor Robby Allison at Chelomey Orbital.  I was to return at once, change craft, and head to Emerald.  My presence was required at the Imperial Palace there by some Admiral in the service of Princess Duval.

That is what has brought me here at the end of my day.  I have a shuttle at 0800 tomorrow morning from Mackenzie Relay to the Naval yard at the Palace complex.  I wonder what I have done to get this kind of attention.

I did manage to get a couple of pictures of Emerald and the scenery before I docked.  I would have loved to get more, but exhaustion was setting in.  With my luck today, Mother would have shut down this little Imperial Courier just outside of autodocking range if I had pushed myself anymore.

Sleep will be elusive tonight:  My mind is still racing over what I have done.

09 February 3307 – 2040

“You ever run a con like that on me again and I will kill you!” I scream as I punch the older man one last time.

My blow lands squarely on his jaw, knocking him to the floor.  He shook his head and then pushed himself up into a sitting position.  He was taking my anger rather well, having been pummeled by me for the past 5 minutes.

“How was I supposed to know you would be interdicted?” he asks with resignation in his voice.

“You told me to bring you 25 THARGOID sensor fragments!  You should have known!”

Professor Palin hung his head.  The exertion was getting to me.  I realization that I shouldn’t be burning bridges was coming back to me.  My whole body shook as the shock of what had happened finally hit me.  Looking around at the room, I could see the effects of my rage:  shattered glass and loose tools lay scattered around the room, the results of the tantrum I had just thrown.  I began to shake, and my vision blurred and blacked out.

The last thing I remember was Professor Palin diving to catch me as I fell uttering the words, “Oh, shit…”

I had completed my mission yesterday of mining and being interdicted so that Imperial Intelligence could track pirate activity.  They were hoping to establish a connection between piracy in the Jura system and the NMLA’s money gathering activities.  Today was supposed to be a waiting game while the containers I had been “robbed” of were fenced and the money sent to the NMLA.  Imperial Intelligence was looking for those black-market dealers so that they could establish the money routes and then begin tracking down the NMLA via the money transfers.

That meant that I essentially had the day off.  

I decided to pay a visit to Professor Palin rather than waste the day.  I needed to get the final touches done on the Veritas, my Anaconda that I had specifically set up for deep space exploration, which meant that I needed to visit the good Professor to get my thrusters engineered out to maximum.  I had my invitation to visit his workshop, but he was requesting that I bring him 25 sensor fragments before we could get to work on the ship.

My first trip to his shop left me feeling like a fool.  His message said sensor fragments.  He meant alien sensor fragments.  I didn’t realize my mistake until he explained it to me.  I could have lived with it a little better if he had not used that stupid, condescending tone that he has when he explained that his research involved Thargoid technology.

“Tell you what, Ms. Targus, head over to HIP 17403.  I am told that there is an old downed Thargoid ship in that system.  If you search the crash site, you should be able to find what I am looking for.”

I found the location Professor Palin pointed me at with a little work. It was in an asteroid crater on the dark side of the planet which made landing at the site much harder.  Anacondas have a large landing footprint.

The whole place was eerily dead.  Lying about the Thargoid ship were several Anacondas, all of which showed signs of caustic damage caused by Thargoid weaponry.  In the center of the graveyard lay a dead Thargoid ship, broken beyond the ability to recognize its class.

It took me the better part of an hour to collect Professor Palin’s trinkets.  I was scared beyond belief that the Thargoids would return any minute and destroy me in that SRV.  My fear was irrational as the site was old and beginning to succumb to the ravages of time.

It was on my return to Professor Palin’s when the scariest moment of my life happened:  I was interdicted out of Witch-Space by three Thargoid Interceptors.  One was a Cyclops class, and another was a Basilisk class.  I couldn’t see the third, but before I could spin around and get a look, the Basilisk emitted some form of electromagnetic pulse that shut down all of my systems except for the life-support, which was running on battery power during the rest of the engagement.

As I struggled to reboot my systems, the Basilisk scanned my ship.   It moved from its initial position and scanned my cargo bays where the sensor fragments were and then scanned my frameshift drive.  I guess it found the Guardian Frameshift Booster I had there, because it emitted a stream of caustic liquid at my ship before the three took off into Witch-Space, leaving me there defenseless.

I managed to limp my wounded Anaconda back to Professor Palin’s lab.  I landed as one of the seals on the rear port quarter gave out.  After paying the dock master almost two million credits to repair the Veritas, I finally walked in and assaulted Professor Palin.

Now that I’m recovered, I fear I must go in and apologize for my behavior.  Hopefully, I can salvage the situation and get him to teach me how to finish upgrading my thrusters.  

The scare today has me rethinking the decision I made to forego weapons for jump range.  I know I need every lightyear, and I have almost 70 with my current load-out, but space can obviously be dangerous.  Is it worth the risk, though, to go out there unarmed?

06 February 3307 – 2040

I hate being used. Even if it did get me closer to finding Tia, I still hate being used. By anyone. This means you Dweller.

Two days ago, I ended up at Liz Ryder’s workshop. I thought it was because she had some information that the Dweller had sent to her about my sister. When I got there, I was told that there might be some information on its way, but at the time the Dweller hadn’t given Liz an update on Tia.

The time spent there wasn’t all bad. Liz showed me how to upgrade missile racks and gave me the plans for an experimental effect for them that would overheat my targets if the missiles hit their target. That seemed like a decent enough modification if I ever decide to start using missiles in combat. I can’t bring myself to use them right now though; it seems like all of the pirates I am dealing with are using point defense turrets or chaff. Missiles are expensive and to have that much wasted by a cheap turret or some space confetti is too much for me to trust right now.

Anyway, about 1000 on the 4th, another message came into Liz’s workshop. The Dweller said one of his contacts in the Kuwemaki system had some information for me. Unfortunately, that person wanted 50 tons of Kamitra Cigars, so I would have to pick those up on my way there.

Turns out, the cigars were another debt that the Dweller owed to another one of his underworld friends. Hera Tani was pleasant enough once I handed them over, but she was adamant that I tell my “boss” that he needed to pay his debts in a bit timelier manner, or it would affect their relationship. I wanted to scream!

My boss? Um, no? Not even close?

Even Tod McQuinn seemed to think I was in the employ of the Dweller. That guy gave me the creeps, especially the way he kept hitting on me. Evidently, Mr. McQuinn seems to think he is something hot and desirable to all women. The other thing that put me off about him was that he only wanted to be called the Blaster. Not sure what that was about, but I think it was because he was compensating for something.

Egos! Uhg! I have enough problems without having to deal with people like that.

I got fed up and went to see Felicity. She has always been decent to me, though I didn’t get to know her until after Papa died. On our first meeting, she told me that she used to work on “special projects” with him. This time though, she was in full counselor mode as she tried to calm me down for a couple of hours. I think she gave up and just gave me those two bottles of Cetian liquor to get me drunk while she delt with the Dweller over the holo nets. Somewhere in the middle of them, I think I passed out. I can’t remember what kind of liquor it was, but I had a hangover until noon yesterday. I want to find out what it was, because that stuff was so smooth, but stars did it have a kick.

In the morning, Felicity woke me up and told me I should go see the Dweller face to face. I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea given the mood I was in, but I listened to her. I couldn’t help it, I felt like I was betraying her by not following her advice.

I must find out what “that” tone is that older women use. You know the one: they tell you that you “should” do something in “that” tone, and no matter how much you protest, you only feel worse about yourself ignoring their advice until you follow it. Then, even if you were right about ignoring it, you feel guilty that you didn’t follow the advice when they first gave it to you.

I landed at the Dark Hide just about 1100. I marched past his security and into his office there. I was pissed.

Word of advice to myself for future reference: No matter how pissed you are at the Dweller, do NOT slap him in his own office. I almost got shot by his security team. If they hadn’t waited to see if he wanted to kill me personally for insulting him, I would be a pile of goo and ash right now.

Picking himself up off the floor he chuckled and said I had a good right cross. I can’t say that I know what that is, but evidently it has something to do with a sport called boxing. Guys get into a circular arena and beat each other up for the fun of it? Maybe when I have more time, I will investigate that further, but standing there it felt like he was wasting more of my time.

“I can’t seem to get anything on your sister, Targus. What I was able to get you, however, might help you more than I seem to be able to do. Give this chit to Mother and let her sort it for you. Follow her directions to the letter.”

I looked dumbfounded at the chit in my hands. It had Federal markings on it and an agency designation that I was unfamiliar with. I am not sure, but I think I had just received stolen data from him.

I was “escorted” from the premises then and “politely” asked to board my ship. Okay, so I was dragged from the room by his security detail and thrown halfway up the boarding ramp of my ship. Then I was told to get on board and leave. The security detail also mentioned that I was not to come back until I had been asked to come back by the Dweller himself and that my manners had better have improved significantly the next time I showed up there.

Mother scanned the data that the Dweller had given me once we had lifted off. It contained security codes to gain access to the R CRA Sector AF-A d42 system that the supposed Imperial prison was in. I looked at my map and noticed that while the codes were not actually all that necessary to get into the system, they did help keep me on the right side of the law in that system, no matter how many security barriers I crossed. The codes also seemed to help with the Federals too, since they seemed to take no notice of me crossing into their star systems.

There wasn’t much at the prison. The bodies had already been cleaned up and most of the mess removed. The quiet of the place was eerie and had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I felt like a target wandering around the site, but I did find copies of data logs there. Those logs led me to the LTT 1935 system, and the planet that the NMLA bomb making factory was originally at when Theta group was originally picked up.

I will say that Federal Intelligence is sloppy. There were a few downed ships there, some still with cargo around them. I checked out some of the cannisters and my stomach turned so hard that it almost emptied its contents into my space suit. The cannisters held the materials for making more of the same bombs that were used on Keppler Orbital and the Feds hadn’t even taken the time to secure them so no one could grab them. Yes, there were a couple of skimmers there, I know those aren’t much protection: I shot a couple of them up at one of the sites.

At one of the sites, I found Tia’s escape pod, with someone in it. I checked the readouts on the pod and found that the person in it was in remlock suspended animation. I put her in my SRV and took her back to my ship, but not before blasting the escape pod to bits. I tried hard not to leave any evidence that I was there, only scanning the data points and ship data cores so that I couldn’t be tracked.

When I got back to my ship, I realized how little I knew about them. Somehow, Mother had been shut down and in her place a text only message awaited me on my ship’s HUD:

“Lady Targus, you are ordered to report to report to base at Chelomey Orbital with our Intelligence agent by 2000 today. – Aisling”

I blinked twice. It couldn’t have been Princess Duval who sent that. It had to be some admiral using her name to get my attention. Regardless, my status required me to go.

Before sitting down to lift off, I lifted the blacked-out visor on the space suit. While the size and shape of the body that I had carried onto my ship was about right for Tia, the face was not hers. All biological action is stopped when the remlock activates, including nano enhancements. This woman was a good double for Tia, but her face without enhancements most certainly was not my sister. I closed the visor and headed for Cubeo.

Did I mention that I don’t like to be used? I thought I did, but I feel the need to say it again.

I made it to Chelomey with about 10 minutes to spare. A team of intelligence officers who specialized in the “condition” that my guest was in rushed onto my ship and then carried her body off to somewhere while a Naval Captain detained me at the end of my docking ramp. He seemed intent on not letting me leave the docking port for some reason.

I was escorted by him to another ship on the docks, a Type-9 and told not to open the envelope that he was handing me until I was away from the station. I asked him what would happen if I refused. He drew his sidearm. I made the only choice I could: I got on board the ship and closed the hatch.

Then I got angry, I mean, really angry. This was my ship! I mean, I bought it myself and had left it at Jameson Memorial before I left on my little trip out of the Bubble a couple of weeks ago. How did they get it here without setting off all of my alarms?

“Good evening, Ma’am”

Mother. They stole Mother and used her to override the security protocols. Of course they did, because, why not? It’s not like they couldn’t have just asked me to have my ship transported here.

“Good evening, Mother. Set systems to internal and get us out of this system.”

“Very good, Ma’am. Course set for Jura.”

I stopped. I hadn’t given her a course yet. How did she know where we were going? Oh, yeah, “they” stole my ship, my AI, and now me.

I looked down at the envelope in my hand. It wasn’t a snake. It wasn’t going to bite. It made me madder all the same.

I ripped open the envelope and read the documents inside. I read them twice because I could not believe them. Not only was I conscripted, I was conscripted to do an Intelligence job.

It seems with the recent events that the Imperial Intelligence service is undergoing “restructuring”. As such, the Admiralty was graciously asking selected Imperial pilots who had proven their loyalty to undertake some unique missions to gather intelligence. Due to the nature of the mission, no rank would be awarded for these missions as they had to have the ability to disavow knowledge of these activities if anything should happen.

My actual mission was on the second page. I was to head to Jura and pretend to be just as simple miner. This mission had a twist: I had to allow myself to be interdicted so that I could dump 100 tons of cargo over the course of the first part of the mission. It seems that the Admiralty believed that the NMLA was using local pirates to force commanders to dump cargo so that they could sell that cargo on the black market and finance their next moves.

I was to dump specific containers when interdicted. These had been modified so that they could be tracked to their final destinations. Supposably, this would give the Admiralty information about how extensive this network was.

The second part of my orders stated that I was to wait one day after dumping my last special container, then hunt down the pirates who had interdicted me and kill them. That part sounded a lot more fun and therapeutic. On the bright side, all income from mining or bounties was mine to keep with no tax. After that, I was to report back to Chelomey.

Only 56 more containers to go. Did I mention I hated being used?

03 February 3307 – 2040

“Don’t connect the red wire to that. Are you kidding me? You keep making stupid mistakes like that and you are going to blow up my whole workshop and half this planet with your stupidity!” Liz’s voice rings out across the engineering bay. Several of her workers look up with nervous expressions, but I just keep working.

After three and a half days of nonstop flight that spanned 17000 lightyears of travel, this is what I am left with: working on a missile rack trying to upgrade it one more time. It looks like my fourth attempt at this fifth upgrade will finally have it working in the best configuration. The upgrades won’t be fully finished, but they will be enough to operate it at top efficiency until I can get the rest of the equipment to complete the work.

I arrived at Watt Port in the Enayex system a little before 1800 Universal. It was not what I had expected from the Eurybia Blue Mafia. I had envisioned some dirty, run-down old outpost on the hind side of space. When I dropped out of supercruise to find myself coming up quick on the Hab ring of an Ocelius Starport, I found myself acting on instinct as my mind went into awe over the scene.

The surprise had me off-balance, so my gambit didn’t work quite like I had planned.

My plan had been to land my ASP and walk into the starport (it was supposed to be an outpost in my vision of what would happen) wearing my finest Imperial uniform with the trimmings of my knighthood prominently displayed. Matching my attire, I was going to act the part of an aloof, arrogant Imperial who thought higher of herself than what her true station was.

I was already nervous about trying to pull that off as my usual demeanor is much kinder and gentler than that. However, I felt that I could pull that part of the gambit off given my upbringing on Cubeo and how Mama had taught Tia and I to act when around aristocracy.

“Mother arrange for the FDL to be transported here. Better have the Anaconda brought here too.”

“You realize that you never paid to have the bounty on the Anaconda paid?” Mother asked. “It will cost more to hire a pilot who is willing to transport a ship with a capture or kill mark on it.”

She was right, but I had a feeling that getting it here was important. It was the only ship I had of any size to carry a cargo. I looked at my credit balance on the vid in my room. With no way to determine how much I would have to pay to get it there until the bids were made and I accepted one, I could not be sure I had the money to get it to Watt Port.

“Damn. Okay, let’s wait on that until I turn in some of this exploration data. I’ll let you know when we can call for it.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I have submitted the request to have the Fer-De-Lance transported here from Stillman Hub. Estimated time of arrival, 22 minutes. Estimated cost 345,000 Credits. Please acknowledge request to begin transfer.”

“Acknowledged, Mother,” I say as I am putting on the prismatic tiara. A single band made of something form of metal that caught the light perfectly, making it look like I was wearing a thin rainbow across my forehead. Looking at the myself in the mirror, I felt the image was perfect: My white Imperial flight suite gleamed, contrasted only by the two Elite Explorer emblems on my shoulders and the dark lettering of my name above my left breast. On my collars, the shiny silver Imperial rank emblems designating me as a Knight in the Imperial Reserve Navy glistened in the soft light.

One last touch to the appearance and I would be ready. I tapped a few buttons on the screen and felt the nanos remove the nano ink tattoo from my face. Perfect and pristine, just as if I belonged here.

Walking down the plank to the starport, I heard a couple of the dock hands muttering to themselves. One of them shouted, “Who let that piece of space trash in here? Someone needs to eject it out into space again.”

The banter turned to silence as I came into view. I looked like a piece of fine, elegant piece of porcelain that needed to be in a display case. I did not belong in their world of grease and smoke.

Barely acknowledging their presence, I walked up to the crew chief. Handing him a 40000-credit chit, I said, “Have it painted before I get back. The paint details can be pulled up on the external maintenance screen.”

I was gone before he could answer. Even if I had stuck around, I knew he wouldn’t have answered because the chit I had given him was worth twice as much as the paint job. Given my piloting rank, both he and I knew that had he said anything about my overpayment, he would have lost his tip. Best for both of us that I got out of there quickly.

I had just painted a target on my back. It was large, flashy, and marked me as someone who didn’t know what I was doing or knew all too well what I was doing. My actions had been calculated to catch everyone’s attention, and they had their desired effects.

When I walked into the Universal Cartographics office, my gambit began to unravel. Standing in the waiting room, I noticed that the under financed local had the cheesy, plastic-y feel of one of those sleezy car dealerships I had seen in the holos my history teacher used to show. At a counter in the corner, a couple of tellers (actual tellers? Most locations have AI data pads for low-level data exchanges!) were trying to swindle a Scout ranked pilot out of a few credits for his data.

I waited, impatiently, though I knew I would not be working with them. The tellers wouldn’t even have acknowledged me as my data sum was above their paygrades. The past fourteen days had netted me over 650 million credits worth of data and the UC office would have been notified of my balance before I walked off my ship. I was waiting for the Port Manager, as he was the only one qualified to deal with such an expensive customer.

“Lady Targus, Chief Dukagjini will see you know.”

Turning I follow the page into a larger office. This at least they gave a bit of detail to. The décor was greatly improved, to the point that it looked like quite a bit of money had been invested in this area to impress the more important customers.

Chief Dukagjini was facing away from me when I walked in. The page closed the door behind me as I entered. I heard a faint “beep” and I knew the room would have been secured to protect the client’s privacy. Usually. This station was owned by the Eurybia Blue Mafia and criminal organizations normally like protecting their own interests over their customer’s interests.

“Good evening, Lady Targus. How was your trip into the deep?”

“Beautiful, sir, just stunning.”

“That is wonderful. I would love to see some of the holos you took out there sometime.”

This wasn’t getting anywhere fast. I needed to get this moving quickly. “Perhaps sometime. As I am on a short time schedule, I think it is appropriate for us to get down to business. I would like to turn in one hundred million credits worth of exploration data.”

He looked like he was trying to cover anger with exasperation. His demeanor changed quickly. “Are you playing with me?”

“No, sir, I am not,” I replied. I knew that the amount would qualify me as an ally of his faction and greatly improve his faction’s standings in this system. I also knew he had been expecting to get all the data I had. The target on my back had just gotten bigger.

The tension in the room rose dramatically over the next few minutes. The transaction over, he stopped and locked eyes with me. “By the way, kiddo, she doesn’t like flashy. It draws too much attention.”

“Who are we talking about?” I ask.

He smiles and hands me a data chit and says, “Take this to Carrier City in the Scyllia system. She will contact you once you complete this contract.”

I sighed and took the chit and went back to the bay. I was just in time to see my FDL land on the pad next to the one the Prodromoi was parked on. I changed course and headed to my FDL and prepped it for launch.

Suddenly, I felt alone. I quickly punched a few buttons and transferred Mother to the computer core of the newly arrived ship. My tensioned eased as her warm voice came over the speakers, “Ready for launch, Ma’am.”

I punched in the new coordinates and after a 220,000 light second trip within the Scyllia system we were finally complete. No sooner had I landed than a secure transmission came through.

“Where are my landmines?” questioned a middle-aged female voice.

“Landmines?”

“Yea, the Dweller said you would have the two hundred tons of landmines he owed me. He gave me some information for you, but I told him I would not give that information up without my landmines.”

I looked at the pristine panels of my FDL. It would not hold that much cargo. In fact, the only ship in my fleet that could was my Anaconda. I punched up the requisition that Mother had made earlier and changed the destination to Carrier City. Looking at the charter, I was now almost four million credits poorer and had a 35-minute wait. I passed the time by going down to the station’s cybernetics boutique and having a couple of implants put in that would allow me to control my cosmetics nanos and allow me secure communications with Mother even when I was not on one of my ships.

An hour later, I landed at Liz Ryder’s workshop, an out of the way settlement known as Demolition Unlimited. She met me at the foot of my landing ramp, her arms crossed as she impatiently tapped her left foot. I felt like she had been waiting for me.

“About time. Look, kiddo, the Dweller sent me some information. It doesn’t look good as your sister has been missing since you almost blasted her in the HIP 22550 system. He is still working some angles, but he wants you to stay here until he has some more answers. I think that Imperial prison that got wiped out is putting a kink in his information flow.

“While you wait, I have a project for you. Felicity contacted all of us when you left her workshop back in December and told all of us to help how we could. I make things that go ‘boom’ and so will you after we get done here today.”

She showed me the basics of how to get more out of my missile launchers. I don’t normally use them, but I can see how much more they can do than the multi-cannon I usually have on my FDL. Maybe I might try them out one day. Not today though. My eyes are bleary looking at this missile launcher, and I should probably put this up for the night. I’ve almost blown us up three times, but her expression is softer now. I think she realizes I need some rest. Maybe tomorrow I can get this right.

02 February 3307 – 2120

Mother is mad at me now. I broke routine and flew almost an hour and a half past our usual routine. At least we are landed safely, and I can take the time I need to write this journal entry tonight. Unfortunately, not much has changed since yesterday except how close we are to the Bubble. The day began with us a little over 9500 lightyears out with 146 jumps to make until we reached Enayex. As of ten minutes ago when we landed, we are now 5200 lightyears out with 79 jumps to make until we reach our destination.

Mother really tested my nerves and my resolve today. I still feel queasy having to fly into the tails of neutron stars to overcharge my Frameshift Drive. The route she planned for today took me through not one, but four neutron systems. Three of them were back-to-back jumps through neutron star systems. I was shaking so much after the third one that Mother had the autodoc prepare a mild tranquilizer concoction that she threatened to have injected into me if I didn’t calm my heart rate down. That concoction is still in its syringe next to my flight chair.

I am having mixed feelings about this trip now. The explorer in me wants to take some time and enjoy the sights out here. No artist alive could come close to the beauty that lay beyond the sky. Those who stay within the Bubble, or worse yet on a singular planet, their whole lives miss some of the most breath-taking views. This sunrise is just a singular example of that.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/133058/

Despite my rush to get back for Tia’s sake, I couldn’t resist a picture or two. Therein lies my problem though: Chasing my dreams means losing what is left of my family. I don’t know how much more I can give up in this life. Tia, you better not let me down in this one. I know you are in trouble; I just hope you have the sense to take the help that is about to be offered to get back on track.

Perhaps I will take her with me to the conflux sites. She seems all fired up to take on something bigger than her so maybe taking a crack at something bigger than the Empire will whet her palate.

I haven’t heard anything new from the Dweller today. I guess I just keep hoping that he will find her and get her somewhere safe. I know that is wishful thinking. Being part of the underworld, the Dweller probably has a lot more to deal with on a day to day basis than finding some Imperial woman who has gone and gotten herself into trouble.

Despite the routine of jump and scan that I have been in for the past couple of days, I did find some interesting things. The first one is this Ammonia planet that I found near a neutron star. When I scanned it’s rings, I thought I was going to go blind with how much they lit up to show off the hotspots. It was just amazing.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/133059/

The second was this planet:

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/133060/

I call it the darkest planet. When searching for it on the full spectrum scanner, it took me almost 10 minutes to find. It became a challenge that I could not walk away from. It was even black on the map of the system after I scanned it and the planetary map just showed a surface so black you could not make out terrain features.

This high metal content world is a little over 22000 lightseconds from the one type F star in the system. It is black as the void and resides in the part of the system closest to the galactic rim. There is so little light out there that it has nothing to reflect. I had to scan it just to see it with my own eyes. I wish I had been able to land on it, but the neon atmosphere is thick enough to prevent landing. Here it is scanned.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/133061/

The final spectacle that I am going to log in my journal is this pair:

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/133062/

I call them the wrecking crew. The picture is taken from about ten million miles. It was tough to scan these two for a couple of reasons: First they are tiny. They both took only one probe to fully scan, but I missed hitting the little one three times before I was able to scan it.

The second is that they are moving incredibly fast. It took the pair only 90 seconds to travel 0.10 lightseconds. I was constantly adjusting my speed up to keep my bearing and orientation to fire the probes at these two. They actually scared me as this was the first time I had seen a probe arc that much in flight.

The final weird thing about these two is that they are tidally locked in this position. The smaller moon, if you want to give it that much credit, does not orbit the planet but stays right where it hangs in this picture, moving in tandem with its parent planet, almost as if they were completely synchronized in some sort of cosmic dance around their star. It was as crazy as it was beautiful.

Well, Tia, it will be a long ride tomorrow, but I should make it to Enayex. Hopefully, there will be some information there for me.

01 February 3307 – 2100

Exhaustion seems to be a constant companion now. I am pushing myself too hard to get back to the Bubble. I just have a really bad feeling about things back there, and I am stressing myself out about Tia. Somewhere deep inside I know she is in trouble.

Today was another long day of jump, full spectrum scan, maybe detail surface scan, jump and repeat the process over again. While I didn’t make as much distance as I would have liked today, I did cover almost 3000 lightyears and about 50 hyperspace jumps. That brings my total down to 9500 lightyears and 146 jumps left to make to get to Enayex. As I look ahead in the star charts there appears to be several neutron stars that Mother is taking us past that will cut our travel time down some.

I think Mother is picking up on my stress. She is complaining less about how hard I am driving myself to get back to the Bubble. She may even be as worried as I am about Tia. I caught her running a few hypothetical jump solutions while I was scanning a couple of planets, trying to get us back quicker. I need to work a little on her subroutines though. She doesn’t seem to plot the full distance we can make with supercharging we do at neutron stars. In fact, one of the jumps she plotted was only 60 lightyears even though the Prodromoi can make almost 240 light years on a supercharge.

I am getting better at landing at high gravity. The scans of this planet we stopped on tonight say the gravity is 2.08 G. It feels heavier. I managed to pilot us in with little search time for a good landing spot. Mother stopped me before I did the last burst on the thrusters, telling me that we had landed, and I would crush the landing gear if I tried to thrust the ship lower. The landing was so soft that I did not even feel the touchdown.

The Dweller hasn’t sent any new information my way. Despite that being his usual way, to wait until you finish one step before moving you on to the next, the wait is driving me crazy. My mind is grasping at any and every possible thing that could be going wrong right now. I must get my mind of the situation.

I know that the Dweller does not like flashy entrances. It may be foolish, but I think I am going to make a scene when I get to the dock that he told me to land at. I have thought of a few scenarios to get as much attention as I could, but none of them seem elegant enough.

One of my first ideas was to pop the hatch when I get there and walk into the dock naked. Unfortunately, I think that might send the wrong message. Given the state the paint on the Prodromoi is in, they might just as well take me for an escaped slave trying to slip off a stolen ship instead of a semi-seasoned pilot. No, I need some thing that will make jaws drop yet set me up as someone to leave alone.

My mind is in a fog. I will think more on this later. Later, after sleep, later…

31 January 3307 – 2050

I feel like I have been in a Bucky Ball Race all day. Jump, Honk, Full Spectrum Scan, Jump again. Maybe Detail Surface Scan a planet or two, all the while wondering where Tia is and if she is alright. I need to get back to the Bubble. Nothing else really matters right now except getting back there to protect what is left of my family.

That said, my ASP Explorer, the Prodromoi, has done some amazing things today. Mother, my shipboard AI, has had quite a hand in things too. Together, we have crossed over 5000 lightyears and completed more than 50 jumps today. I am so exhausted.

I almost spent the night drifting in space tonight. I had made a deal with Mother that we would try for 50 jumps today bringing our total number of jumps we need to complete down to just about 200. Unfortunately, we found ourselves in a series of systems that had multiple stars but no planets. My exhaustion overtook me at one point and I almost flew us into a type F star. Mother threatened to shut the ship down and let us drift if I didn’t find a planet that we could land on by the time we crossed the 190 jumps remaining mark. Fortunately, we ended up in an amazingly beautiful system with 51 Celestial Bodies!

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/132632/

Picking a planet was tough, though. My choices were three planets with 1.75 G or more, or to choose one of the moons orbiting the gas giants in the system, all of which had 0.15 G or less. There wasn’t really any middle ground. I settled on the smallest of the heavy G planets, only because it was the only one that had any geological features: geysers expelling liquid silica, what they used to call glass on Earth before low-cost spaceflight was a reality.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/132634/

Once landed near one of the fields, I was awestruck at the beauty of the stark landscape under the light of the class A star. Amazing just seems so bland for the beauty that was out there. I know my pictures did not do the landscape justice.

I did note while scanning with the external camera that the Prodromoi needs a new paint job. She is down to bare metal in a lot of places and many others are very thin. Even my Elite Explorer emblems on the ship are barely recognizable for what they are. I guess I will be putting out good chunk of money for a new paint job for her once I get back to the Bubble.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/132633/

One last note from my trip: Neutron stars are not your friend. You might be able to get a huge lift out of them, but they are very worthy of your respect. I found one that terrified me just looking at it because it was spinning so fast that the radiation cones off both ends of the minute star looked solid. I had to use the highest framerate on my camera to snap a picture of it to make sure the cones were not solid masses.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/132631/

It took about 5 minutes of coaxing by Mother to get me to enter one of the cones. We needed to overcharge the frame shift drive to try to shorten our trip a bit. Regardless, I need to be more careful with these things.

I entered the cone too close to the neutron star. While the gravity didn’t pull me out of supercruise, it was pulling me back towards the event horizon of the star. I had to jam the throttles full forward to break free and start making some headway towards leaving the star behind. That is when the neutron decided to get even. I tried to slide my ship outward and through the wall of the cone, but every time I got close the force of the outer walls of the radiation cone pushed me back into the center and diverted my path a bit. At one point I was pointed back at the neutron star at full thrust. It was sheer luck that I managed to get the ship pointed away from the star again and managed to punch out of the solar tornado by exiting what looked like a halo where the radiation cone weakened.

I don’t even like looking at neutron stars anymore. Mother is telling me as I am writing this that I need to get over that fear because we have several more to encounter on this trip. It is going to be rough on me, but Mother hasn’t driven me wrong yet, so I guess I have to trust her.

I have not heard anything new from the Dweller. The message he sent yesterday didn’t give me much to go on, just the name of what looks like a criminal group and a system name: Eurybia Blue Mafia, Enayex. I know Enayex is an independent system, but it is exploited by Admiral Denton Patreus. Being in her Majesty Princess Aisling Duval’s service, I know of Admiral Patreus, but I do not know him personally. I think they may have dated at one time.

I don’t know if my affiliations will help me there or hurt me. I think I will keep things under wraps until I get a good feel for what is going on there before I make any real decisions. For all I know, the Dweller is just using that spot to set up a secondary path to another location before he gives me a final destination to meet this new contact that he wants to pass information to me through.

Mother is threatening to fill the cabin with an aerosolized tranquilizer if I don’t go to sleep. Hopefully, I will hear something and be a lot closer to the Bubble this time tomorrow.

30 January 3307 - 1700

Red sky at night, sailors' delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. – Ancient Earth Seafaring Rhyme.

Evidently my luck out here on the frontier was not meant to hold up. The two AMFUs have been running non-stop for the past six hours trying to repair my stupidity. Evidently, you are not supposed to turn on the Frame Shift Drive to jump systems while still fuel scooping a star, no matter how impatient you are.

I was getting tired last night while flying. I have been so hyped with sleeping in gravity that the idea of sleeping in my flight couch bothered me for some reason. I finally found this tiny planet with six tenths gravity just as I was about to give up and pass out from exhaustion. The landing was rough, and the terrain was not the most even.

I guess that between the two rookie mistakes, I did some damage to my ASP. When I tried to ignite the thrusters this morning, they failed twice before igniting. I didn’t want to, but I looked at the systems report. It was not horrible, but not great either. Looking out the window at the field of bark mounds in front of me, illuminated in the red light of the T Tauri star spinning at the center of this solar system within a solar system, I realized that it would be foolish of me to chance taking off and continuing my journey.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/132443/

I flipped a couple of switches and the thrusters powered back down and then the AMFUs kicked on. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the thrum of the machinery echoing through the hull as I waited for the ship to heal itself in the near vacuum of the cold planetary valley splayed out before me.

It was during that quiet time that my mind finally decided to deal with the ghosts of Kepler Orbital and the life that had been taken from me.

I was at home when it happened, on holiday from university visiting Mama and Papa. I had just arrived home on the 16th of November to spend a week with them before moving on to a new assignment in my last internship and wanted to celebrate with my parents. Papa was so proud of my accomplishments that he could not keep silent. Mama was happy too but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. The next morning, Papa went to work still singing my praises to all who would hear.

The vid call that came in mid-morning startled both Mama and me. Papa never called home from work because he had agreed with Mama that work stayed at work and family time was sacred. There were no emergencies in the diplomatic corps on Cubeo. That was why he had chosen this world to finish his career and grow his family. It just didn’t happen.

Papa told us that he had a delicate mission to Federal Space that required a discreet yet experienced team of negotiators. I pouted a bit when he said he would be gone for a couple of days but understood. Our family always understood that life in the Imperial Navy meant that the needs of the Navy came before desires of the family.

I don’t remember much more about the 17th of November. I will never forget the 18th, though. That was the day my world ended.

Mama and I were having tea and chatting about color palates when the news of that Kepler Orbital had been attacked. We wondered idly why it would be on the local news as Kepler had nothing to do with the Cubeo system. Half an hour later the notification team arrived at our home to tell us that Papa was dead. I was numb.

The next morning, I woke early, determined to try to process this with Mama. I finally went into her room to check on her. I found her laying on their bed in her wedding dress. Her skin was cold and her eyes fixed. I should have checked on her during the night, but my own emotions overwhelmed me.

The police did a full review of the situation and determined that whatever happened, I was not at fault. Personally, I think she died of a broken heart. There are cases all throughout human history that come to that conclusion, especially when two people love each other as much as Papa and Mama loved one another.

It was almost six weeks later that I found out what happened on Kepler Orbital. It is also why I still have hope that part of my family still lives.

I met Felicity Farseer not long after leaving the flight academy. While working with her in her shop, she recommended that I look for other engineers, people who had worked hard to develop skills devoted to improving various aspects of ship systems, to help me upgrade my ship. On of these was an individual who could only be described as a piece of work.

During my travels, I managed to “acquire” certain goods that could not be sold on the regular markets. They were all regular commodities; they just couldn’t be sold regularly because I acquired the stollen materials from the wreckage of pirates who attacked me. The fences that I sold the goods through evidently thought well enough of me that word got back to a person only known as “the Dweller”.

It was through him that I found out what really happened to Papa and what I believe happened to Tia. While working in the Dweller’s workshop, he took what he called as a “shine” on me. He had heard of me and felt bad for what had happened, so he asked his contacts for video footage from within Kepler Orbital on the day of the attack. I never asked for his help, yet he gave it to me willingly. I still don’t know why.

The video he showed me was from a little over 150 meters away. The images were a bit blurred as one corner of the video constantly showed a raging fire which muted the camera’s ability to focus on what we really wanted to see. What was on the video was enough though.

As I watched the video with the Dweller, I could tell that there was more to the frame than what was being shown me. It was like someone had enhanced it by zooming in on the area we were specifically interested in. The Dweller probably did this because he knew what I would want to see.

As the video started, the frame was focused on the entry port to a bright, silvery painted Imperial Courier with nondescript Imperial markings on it. I had seen the ship so many times that I instantly recognized it as Papa’s personal ship. The choice to take that craft made sense to me as Papa did not like trusting others to shuttle him around. He also didn’t like bringing attention to diplomatic missions by bringing one of the more elegant craft on his missions.

He always used to say, “When you don’t know who’s watching, don’t be a target.”

Abruptly, a man wearing an Imperial uniform came on screen, dragging a young woman by the arm and what appeared to be against her will, towards the ship. I could tell that the man was Papa, though his hair was disheveled, and his uniform looked like it had been damaged while he was wearing it: torn or burned but not proper like Papa would have demanded its appearance to be.

The woman appeared to be my age and her non-descript clothes appeared to be in the same conditions as Papa’s. He whipped her around and slammed her against the side of the hull of his ship and his face got close to hers. I did not know what Papa was saying to the young brunette, but he seemed to be yelling and pointing at the doorway to his Courier. She shook her head and tried to rush past him, and he grabbed both arms and threw her up the ramp before running halfway back to where they entered the screen. There he turned and yelled at her, then continued to leave the way he entered.

After watching the video, the Dweller told me that his contacts found Papa near a couple of corpses that were in the area that the Marlinist refugees had been in. Where he was and how he had been positioned indicated that he had been trying to save the lives of the innocent people in that area. He handed me a scorched and burned piece of plastic and metal that I knew at once had been the medals Papa would have been wearing on his chest as a part of the uniform he was wearing.

Then the Dweller told me the hard part of the story. His contacts had traced down who the woman was in the video that Papa had worked so diligently to get to his ship. It had been Tia. Her hair color had been changed, her skin darkened and she had added weight, all to disguise who she really was, but biometrics had been confirmed: either I had been there or Tia. Since my whereabouts could be confirmed by the notification teams, the only other option was Tia.

The Dweller also confirmed that Papa’s Imperial Courier had made it off Kepler Orbital before the docks had been too severely damaged for the ship to get away. Tia was alive. The kicker was that no one knew where she was.

Mother is telling me that there is something on the news about something called Serene Harbour that I need to hear. Probably some political garbage that I don’t need to know about. Actually, knowing that we are getting GalNet out here again means the AMFUs are almost done, since the antenna that picks up the faster than light frequencies was damaged so bad that we lost signal just after the system reset we did. Maybe there it is something good happening in the galaxy for once…

The Dweller included a discrete message for me in the data we received. It is not being fully reported in the news, but the Serene Harbour was top secret Imperial Prison in Federal space. It was also where the IISS had been housing those who propagated the attack on Kepler Orbital. This is bad because now the Imperials will be hunting the NMLA with increased vigor to reclaim some of the dignity they lost in the attack.

Damnit. Here I am over 16,000 lightyears from the Bubble with my only family in trouble and out of reach. Mother has plotted a course back to the Enayex system, a general area that I know the Dweller has a few contacts. Even with her best work, utilizing every neutron star between here and there, it is over 250 jumps to get back close to finding Tia.

Stay safe, Tia. I’m coming. I can’t lose you too…

29 January 3307 - 0230

Laying here in my bed, I look up at the soft blue glow emanating from outside of my ship. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wonder if that soft glow is from the light generated from the Neutron star in this system that is almost six and a half light days away or from the radiation that it throws of impacting my shields and being filtered out. I asked Mother to turn of the shields for me so that I could see, but the shipboard AI began citing a long diatribe about the resulting conditions exceeding safety tolerances for the human body. I guess that she did give me my answer in a circuitous fashion, but I would still like to SEE for myself.

Sleep has escaped me for the past hour. Originally, I had woken up to use the loo, but my mind would not allow me to return to sleep. I know this soft peaceful glow is the reason for my sleeplessness, but the glow is so peaceful that I can’t bring myself to launch and find another system to rest in.

I still see the battle in my head. It has been ten days since I last saw combat, but the scene still haunts my memories. I guess it was what happened after that still haunts me, though a large part of that can be attributed to the fact that my memory of that time is still out of order. They warned us that some pilots would experience that as a side effect of the remlok stasis effects. I guess I am one of the “lucky” ones as I was able to find out that I have that problem. Some pilots never get that opportunity.

The first words I heard after the remlok stasis was lifted were the words, “Not bad for an Imperial. We’ll make a combat pilot out of you yet. Next time though, use your weapons not your ship to get your kills.”

The stasis tech’s words were an attempt at a good-humored jibe at my flight skills. The official records stated that my Fer-de-Lance had been destroyed due to an in-flight collision with another craft. The real reason was that I had been too stupid to realize that the Eagle that I had been engaged in fighting still had enough superstructure to destroy my crippled war machine as it make its kamikaze style, last ditch effort of an attack on my ship. I realized too late what his intentions were and though his craft only showed as having 1% hull integrity on my scanner, it was enough to penetrate my hull plating and detonate my power generation systems.

The pirate was to have been my tenth kill in a row. I began by hunting them in the resource extraction site in the metal-rich rings of HIP 22550 2. As I was hoping, the hunter had quickly become the hunted. I didn’t care. Let the vermin come to me rather than me hunting them. It made giving them death easier on me and, in my mind, meant that Tia was just that much safer. If she were among the refugees in this system, she would be at least.

The battle had been unremarkable, really. The kit I had equipped my FDL with tended to melt enemy pilots rather quickly. If the four type 2 beam lasers didn’t finish them quickly, the type 3 multi-cannon that I had mounted below my pilot’s chair finished the job in short order once their shields were down. I could handle most opponents in single combat up to the rank of Master and survive without taking too much damage.

I had decided to make myself a bit of bait this time. I loaded 3 tons of gold on my ship at Stillman Hub before heading out to the extraction site. I figured that since I was usually scanned by pirates, even while in battle, that the dogs would come running to try to make their fortune by threatening me with destruction.

My plan had worked a little too well. The shields on my FDL flashed and disappeared as the first lasers from the ninth ship glanced across the rear quarter of my ship while I was finishing kill eight. I turned off my flight assist and did a somersault, reversing direction before putting a full burst thrust on boosters while simultaneously emptying my laser capacitors and multi-cannon into his tiny Eagle. I had become too focused and given the second Eagle in the wing an easy flank on the exposed belly of my FDL.

The shipboard AI was warning me that I needed to repair. Quickly glancing at my monitors, I swore under my breath as I noticed that the cheeky bastard had crippled several systems and chewed away over 60% of my hull integrity. He would have to be my last kill before I returned to Stillman to re-arm and repair my ship.

Toggling my flight assist computer again, I quickly lined him up and began pummeling him. His shields went down quickly, but I was having troubles with working through his hull. With my multi-cannon reloading for the umpteenth time, I poured the power from my weapons banks into him. Though only rated as competent, I was often able to pilot my ship better than these pirates and avoid their lazy targeting of my ship while we were in combat. Such was the case with this joker. I can only assume that when his hull hit twenty percent that he had opted to go out in a blaze of glory rather than flee the scene like a dog with his tail between his legs. My thirst for blood got the best of me and it wasn’t until the canopy shattered and the deck plating began to rip apart that I realized what had happened.

My remlok helmet slammed shut over my head as the ejection systems of my FDL converted my flight couch into a space-tight capsule, a container very reminiscent of a coffin. Ten gravities hit me all at once as the booster engines in the small safety mechanism kicked in and fired me away from the exploding wreckage in the direction of Stillman Hub. I would be picked up in hours, but the remlok systems began processing my body for suspended animation on the off chance the System Authorities didn’t find me and pick me up before my life-pod arrived at Stillman Hub a few months later.

Just before consciousness fled to the effects of suspended animation, a text message flashed across the HUD in my helmet. The words were the most chilling thing I had experienced in my life:

“You showed that you can at least make some good decisions, Anatola. Try to make the right ones when we come to remove the kings. I regret that we can’t meet right now, but I need to deal with this garbage first.”

The last vision I had before waking up in the Cryogenics lab on Stillman Hub was of a shiny onyx black Imperial Courier with NMLA markings on it slipping through space and scooping up the escape pods from the pirates I had just destroyed. The last thing I saw Tia wear was onyx black. The ship looked familiar too. The hull bore the distinct markings of modifications that Papa had insisted be made to the ship before he would go on his last trip to Kepler Orbital.

Tia was alive and she had Papa’s ship. The evidence may not hold up in a court of law, but they carried the power of definitive proof in my head.

I did the only thing I could do when shocked like that, I ran. That’s why I am looking out the viewport that I have opened for the third time staring out at STROFAI YL-D d12-20 1 instead of at home sleeping in my own bed. I have run more than 15000 LY and am still running. I must get this mess sorted in my head. I must deal with what happened on Keppler Orbital and Mama’s suicide. And I must do all of that before I can deal with meeting Tia again.

I should get up and put my remlok suit on. When I must, I will sleep in the tight suit, secured comfortably to the acceleration couch that I pilot my ship from. Out here on the frontier, the benefits of being able to land on certain planets makes the luxury of sleeping in a bed appealing, especially when the gravity is high enough you won’t float out of bed. Last night, on this half G planet, I decided to take on the luxury of sleeping au naturel, allowing me the most relaxing night I have had since my parents died.

I just wish I could capitalize on it and actually get some sleep…