Note from the Author: This chapter moves just a few months into the future, and is the real start of the story, being the first focal point I create to develop the story from. I introduce the main cast, and really get things on the road. However, note that this is a much slower and more laid back chapter than the previous two. I can\'t make everything guns and action! I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Two: Later and Now
Two months have passed since the atrocity commited on the system of Cadia by the Vaygr Terror Fleet. However, Andrew Jefferson has found a new home within the neutral Higgins system. A colorful system consisting of only three planets, but hundreds of free-floating stations, it is home to every kind of person and legendary for producing heroes and villians alike. So now, yet again, we rejoin Andrew, still haunted by his past, but now going on countless adventures into space to try and stake his claim in the galaxy.
I sat down in the cantina of the ISS Washington, a hefty destroyer just over 200 meters long, with a tall bridge on top, and my new mobile-home. It had thick, long wings which doubled as engines. The ends of each wing housed a large, manned turret, with twin rapid fire cannons. Along the top and the bottom of these wings had evenly dispersed automated medium flak cannons, with 10 per wing, five one top and five on bottom. Mounted on the very bottom of the craft was a massive and oversized artillery cannon that required a small crew to operate that had been \"recommissioned\" from a battleship long before I aquired this craft. Within the top hull of the ship was a number of long-range tracking missile tubes, more than most destroyers its size. It also possessed a small shuttle bay in the very back, drop-pod systems, and a gravetic drive that allowed for hovering within atmosphere. I also had it painted brown with angular green stripes. People can say it\'s ugly all they want, but I like it, so they can just deal with it.
I aquired this craft after moving into the Higgins system. I had dropped off most of the previous prisoners the moment I landed, but a few stayed with me, three to be exact, deciding they owed me for saving their lives. They were fairly quick to explain they, for the most part, weren\'t actually part of the DFN, but ambassadors and soldiers from many different nations. Together, we combined our resources, and I managed to talk the DFN into giving us a massive compensation for rescuing some of their ambassadors, and even more credits for being one of the few surviving University graduates. It was enough for me and my newfound friends to forget about the past, lay down a claim, and live comfortably for the rest of our lives.
Or, more reasonably, buy us a massive destroyer and a crew of 200 to wage our own personal war and make money. Because, frankly, we were all pretty pissed off, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Anyways, back to the Cantina. I was tired, to be honest. I hadn\'t slept in forty-two hours, having just spent the previous couple of days clearing out a nest of pirates with some justice and prejudice in the form of flak and lots of hatred. Since I couldn\'t go fight the Vaygr Terror Fleet (or even try to find them), unless I decided to be suicidal, I instead choes to channel that craving for justice (and revenge) against pirates and the scum of the galaxy. Also, it pays really well, so that does help.
I looked up as the far cantina doors opened up, and Maria walked in, one of the three people who stuck with me. She was a tall, stunningly beautiful women. And she knew precisely how tall and beautiful she was, and was in no way whatsoever scared to use it to her advantage. But past that, the tight-fitting, long coat she always wore, and the pistol she always carried around somehow hidden under her array of skin-bound clothes, she was a real kind, if not direct, lady. A real fine example of the fantastic people the Tartaran Empire produces. She managed most of the public relations when I was too busy doing other, captain things.
She pulled back a chair and took a seat across from me. She pulled out a folder and pondered through the contents. I pondered how in gods name you could fit all her organs into such a thin frame. She pulled out a slip of paper, and slid it across the table to me.
\"We got a contract, Andrew. There\'s a lot of credits in this one, but it\'s not straightforward. A snatch and grab, but we only know how the thing looks, and vaguely where it is. What do you think?\"
\"A lot of credits, or a lot of credits.\" I asked in return.
\"A lot.\"
I nodded. \"Alright, Maria. Tell whoever your working with we\'ll take the credits. What sector are we going to?\"
\"You\'re not going to like it.\"
\"Oh cmon, Maria. It\'s been two months, and we\'ve already done a good number of contracts.\"
\"I know, you\'ve been pushing it too hard.\"
\"I\'m fine.\"
\"Not you, the ship and it\'s crew.\"
\"You\'re the one bringing me a new contract.\"
\"Because you asked me to\" She responded. I shut my mouth. Tartaran women weren\'t exactly known to take crap from people, and it hadn\'t taken me long to realize just why she was so effective dealing in the predominately men-dominated governments and organizations of the galaxy. \"Anyways, we\'re going to be heading to the Jaeger system.\"
I shivered. The Jaeger system was an odd, alien system with a dark, dying sun, and farther away from Higgins than we had ever gone. It only had two planets, and one was covered in miles and miles of ice, and the other was a constant melange of volcanic eruption and tectonic shifts. Both were known to play host to nasy mercenaries. But credits were credits, and we were still having to push ourselves to keep up with keeping the ship maintained and making a living.
\"What about my mom?\" I asked.
\"Jackson already brought her to her apartment on Zanzibar.\"
\"I\'ll call her up before we leave port, then.\" I said. I\'m glad Maria had gotten Jackson to take care of my mom and escort her home before returning to the ship. Jackson was a large man, who had been tasked with keeping the ambassadors safe. He was, before defecting to follow me, a DFMC Marine Sergeant, and had a nasty track record of intense fits of rage, punching officers he thought were \"pansies\" in the face, and one particularly humorous report of urinating on the bed of a Vaygr ambassador. And you know what? I absolutely adore him. He keeps our squads of shock troopers mean and ready to drop 24/7, especially since he \'doesn\'t have to listen to the restrictions and human resources laws that the DFMC always made him follow. However, he was unbelievably polite to my mother. In fact, the last time he caught someone insulted another persons mom, we had an overwhelming number of cases mysteriously pop up in the med bay. He\'s colorful, to say the least.
Maria nodded, got up, and walked off. I grabbed my cup of coffee, and headed off to the elevator arrays at the back of the cantina. I pushed the \'up\' button, and got lucky, having managed to snag an elevator that was stopping at my floor anyways. I sipped at my coffee as a crew of shock troopers who were off duty came to get something to eat. I walked into the elevator, and the doors shut.
\"what floor, please.\" a polite, computer voice said over the intercom.
\"Bridge, thanks.\" I responded. The elevator shot up, and I admired my ability to keep coffee in the cup despite the jerky movements. A few moments, and the doors slid open. I was greeted by a fantastic view of Zanzibar, the massive, twisting construct that held over twenty million residents, not including all of its tourists and the businessmen that went there for the equally amazing variety of alcohol, mercenaries, casinos, and gourmet foods it had to offer.
The bridge of the Washington was a fantastic place. Twenty men and women, all wearing the drab brown uniforms the crew wore while on duty, sat at computers, monitoring all of the ships systems. Standing in front of the massive screen that emulated a window was a strong, broad man, with a bionic right arm and clothed in a deep orange robe he wore over his uniform, his black hair neatly trimmed. I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and smiled. \"Good to see you again, Captain. How goes it?\"
\"Jeremiah, we have another contract-\"
\"I already know all that. Information gets to me quickly. I meant between you and your mother.\" Jeremiah was in tune to every aspect of the ship and its crew. He was a Lazarus, an interesting race of sub-human. He claimed however to be genetically altered to look closer to a human and to act as an ambassador, and it was completely legal for him to be working for me. Not to mention he played a huge role in somehow getting the price of our shipped dropped substantially so we could afford this behemoth. Still, though, I didn\'t know much about the Lazarus besides that they were fantastic at building and selling ships, gave me one of the best crew members I had, and generally stayed out of everyones way.
\"As always. I haven\'t called her yet, but is the crew aboard?\"
\"Of course they are, all the systems are manned and we\'re preparing to undock. But I wanted you to call your mother first, while we were still within shortband transmission range.\"
\"Right, of course you did, can you bring her up on the screen?\"
Jeremiah pushed a button on his right bionic arm, and the section of the screen closest to me switched from its window view to something more like a massive phone call. After a few moments, my mother answered.
\"Andrew?\"
\"Hey mom.\"
\"Are you doing okay? Maria called me and told me about your contract. Why don\'t you call as often, like you did at the University?\"
\"Mom...\" I was going to make an excuse, but honestly, there was no real excuse besides the fact that I was stressed. I had taken on a lot more than I thought I could handle. The mantle of captain of such an impressive ship was difficult, and we still needed a lot more money than we had. Hopefuly, this contract would change just that. \"...I\'ve just been busy.\" \'Smooth\', I thought, \'because she\'ll totally believe that.\".
\"I know, I know, it\'s fine.\" She responded. But you could tell in her eyes and in her voice she knew the truth, but being a mother, and still going to therapy every day to attempt to recover from the trauma we all experienced two months ago, she forced herself to overlook it. \"Stay safe, Andrew. I love you.\"
\"I love you too, Mom.\" And with that, the screen shut off.
\"You might want to sit down and buckle yourself, you never did like FTL jumping with the nodes.\" Jeremiah reminded me.
I sighed. While short ranged FTl was fine for interplanetary travel, the races of the galaxy used a complex system of FTL nodes, which, utilizing massive warp fields and warp projectors, allowed for intergalactic travel for any size ship. I walked towards my captains chair and buckled myself in as the Washington undocked from Zanzibar with a heave and a clunk, and began turning away towards the local FTL node. I heard the whine of the FTL engines on my ship as they prepared to join forces with the nodes warp projector.
I reached for the glass of carbonated water Jeremiah always left me on my arm rest to help settle my stomach, and watched as he just stood there, unmoving, despite the jerking of the ship during undocking and as we were launched into the warp stream. \'He never even leans\' I thought to myself, \'I really must ask him how he does that one day\'.
