Thread: Space Revolution {KayLove & BlackThorne}

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... Duncan Stavros tried and failed for the 5th time this hour to will himself not to glance a the chronometer on the wall panel as he lay, sleepless in his bed. Sleep never came easy to him , at least lately, for many reasons. Once he caught 3 or 4 hours , it was almost impossible to fall back asleep. And a man in his position not being interrupted at least once a night would be unheard of even in the best of times and now was decidedly not the best of times. There it was again. An old Earth author, Dickens, a book he had never even read, and yet something about it had been resonating with him lately. Most likely because he had seen it in Oracle's library, an old leather bound edition. Back when Duncan was on deep space interdiction patrol, he would indulge himself in reading books. Sometimes he would go weeks before even finding a stray signal much less an actual human contact. But now he had ships and men to run. Maintenance schedules, missing parts, petty squabbles and fights, discipline. He couldn't run his crews like it was some crew of Space Marines or even Mercs. Certain many of his crew could meet those standards. But he was , after all, a pirate, a man beyond the law. And in some positions, he just needed warm bodies. Damage control groups. Boarding parties. Scut dogs. A pirate wasn't going to attract the best and the brightest for every possible position. Hell, to be fair, most pirates didn't even have a science section on their bridge, those who did were usually devoted to sniffing out valuable ore, or perhaps spectrum analysis of various gaseous clouds to see if there was anything of worth to strip out of them. Stavros's fleet operated much more like a non-governmental military fleet than it did the typical pirate fleet, but still, it was hard to recruit scientists and the most talented technicians. If it weren't for Oracle and his false front hiring operations , he wouldn't have most of the ones he had now. He looked over at the chronometer again. Shit. Another half hour gone. No sleep, and no productivity, just a lot of fucking navel gazing. He could go to the bridge, but he didn't want the new officer he had on Mid-watch to think he was checking up on them. Rodriquez was solid, he was a good pilot and a guy Duncan trusted to have his back. That couldn't be said of a lot of his crew even aboard his de facto flag ship The Damascus. It might not take as large as a crew to staff a Scimitar class cruiser as it did a mess of a dreadnought like the Hazard. But still even after 10 years , he still wasnt to where he trusted every member of his crew, especially the rank and file. Many of them could care less about rules and titles. Plunder was what they were after, and the pay pretty good. Suddenly a light next to the chonometer began to flash and there was a mild vibration, he did have night mode set in the room after all. He sat up Report he said, and there was a pronounced beep. An excited voice answered. Duncan, you need to hear this Of course even if he didnt recognize the voice he knew only one man aboard would call him Duncan after waking him up in the middle of the night. He listened to the somewhat broken transmission Oracle played Mayday mayday! This is the small distance class ship Aurora seeking assistance! My ship has been badly damaged! Click to expand... The voice was decidedly female and , just as decidedly, in serious distress. His sleep deprived brain tried to grasp at the obvious here Aurora, that was the ship of scientists that disappeared, like, months ago. Could they have been stuck in jump-space? Or is this just an old light speed signal we are catching now? He got up, he was down to his skivvies, and put on his blue jumpsuit, and then the long black leather peacoat over it. Most of the time he went with a grey jumpsuit alone, but this seemed like something significant. if there were scientists alive, he wanted to put his best foot forward. He knew without waiting for Oracle's answer that Oracle wouldn't have bothered him if this was just a ghost signal. No Sir , we have contact was the last thing Stavros heard as he headed to the bridge. As he entered , his third officer immediately spoke Captain, i was just about to wake you, we have contact bearing 040 by 179 relative, range about 31,000 KM. Practically in the same plane we are running, and we have a distress call from the same bearing Duncan waved his hand trying to dismiss the rest of the report Navigation plot a rescue intercept course pronto, helm make way for that ship at best safe speed. He turned to the Tactical officer , a new guy named Burke. Burke , contact security nd the boarding chiefs and tell them to make ready for rescue operations in all respects. This is not a salvage or a plunder, this is a rescue operation under Article 98 of the CINA Of course he referred to the Consolidated Interstellar Navigation Agreement , and while Articles 100-105 of that same agreement were anti-pirating conventions aimed directly at ships like the Damascus, even the most blackhearted of cutthroats understood the need to render assistance to those in need. Because odds were, the shoe would be on the other foot eventually. The truth was, those who spent a significant portion of their life aboard space ships in deep space stood a better than even chance of dying in space As the ship altered course and speed, he felt the Gs of turn and burn . The Damascus had military grade gravimetric plating which made the artificial gravity help compensate for high-g maneuvers. But then again it was , what, more than 12 years since a single grav plate had been replaced on board, and their original designed life was some 10 years. But out on the Omega Sector Frontier, military grade anything was scarce and most reputable refit stations didn't exactly welcome outlaws with open docking clamps. Now he turned to Comms. Open a channel to the ship, hail on other frequencies if they don't answer Of course he knew that they might already be passed out from lack of O2. And further, he knew that many would not be thrilled to take assistance from a known pirate. Of course Duncan's reputation was somewhat more like a folk hero in some circles , but how many scientists were in those circles? Would they have even heard of the people he had helped, the colonies he had saved from starvation? When the channel was opened a moment later , Stavros spoke and his voice went out in a general broadcast Aurora, come in, do you read. This is the SS Damascus , here to render aid under Article 98 of the Navigation code. Hold your relative position and open your internal bolt locks , we are just about a minute from docking maneuvers. As he spoke he felt the deceleration Gs and the slight delay in the grav plates compensating for the heavy braking from the main fusion drive. Duncan was pleased with his crew in this , they had closed a good distance , a full nano-parsec, in a short time and looking over at the trajectory it looks like their approach was good. Now he scrutinized the screens to see how big the ship was, or whatever was left of her, to see if they should continue to try to dock or to bring it aboard with cable or even the magnetic tractor beam. Of course that magnetic force could wreak havoc with the other ship's systems if they were already having problems