Better Alive Than Dead Ch. 002

"Well it's not that simple, you see. Mining Corporation vessels have precedence over civilian crafts, so you are taking the docking space from a privileged vessel, which not only carries the normal cost but a penalty as well."

"So what you are saying is, that you rented me docking space reserved for mining vessels, and now you want to charge me extra for your scam?"

"The penalty is common practice on all DelCorp Mining locations, and on this station, it is protocol to haul ships aside whose pilots are missing or if the docking is reserved for privileged ship classes. Like in this instance." the docking bay chief declared smugly.

"So, your supervisors at DelCorp are aware of your actions here, and the ships you haul are of course intact and registered according to DelCorp guidelines? And it was not because you hoped I had perished in my endeavor so that you would be able to haul my ship aside and sell it for parts to Akarian and Dravv scavengers? Is that what Jzor-Thal has done with the previous hunters' ships?" Jack asked coldly, as the outer rim scam formed easily in his mind. It was not a bad scam, but he was the wrong person to pull it on.

The fat man looked surprised and faked indignation, his mustache quivering concurrently with his extra chins.

"That is a preposterous allegation! I will no-"

"Let me say it this way then," Jack interrupted as he took a threatening step towards the chief. "I will pay what I owe and nothing more, or I will drag you onto my ship by the collar and shoot you out my fucking airlock, and when your supervisors ask me about the new fat asteroid next to this one, I will tell them about this enterprise of yours. You think they will attempt to prosecute me or be glad to not have to pay your severance?"

The fat man seemed about to protest, then closed his gaping mouth before wiping sweat from his brow. He had the security protocols of the station at his whim, but he seemed unused to dealing with bounty hunters, and the threat made him visibly insecure.

Then he grumbled something, and his meaty fingers danced across the interface of the electronic manifest in his hands. He then declared, in as much of an authoritarian voice as he could muster "The cost for docking, refill of water, and fuel amounts to 1104 credits."

Jack made the transaction quickly, before leaving the flustered man, and driving his motorcycle towards Amagi, with VIC hovering close beside him.

"What an absolutely repulsive specimen," VIC remarked. "Not to sound unconcerned about your well-being, but I would prefer not to spend another minute on this godforsaken rock."

Jack smiled, and recalled the erotic goddess from an hour earlier "This place has hidden treasures."

"Oh, I doubt it master."

As they neared the docked spacecraft, Jack used his bionic lenses to command the ship to extend the boarding ramp at the stern, allowing access to the cargo bay.

He drove up the ramp and parked the motorcycle close to the entrance. Without a fightercraft or any trading goods, the space seemed huge and empty. As the cargo bay doors closed shut, Jack dismounted the bike.

"The exoskeleton of my battlesuit is down, and I need you to fix it asap. It's heavy as hell. My gauntlet too."

"Maybe you should have your weapon-systems and other modules inserted as a chip instead of in your armor this time master. This is not the first incident." VIC replied in his usual tone. A mix of honest advice and exasperation.

"And have some government or crime syndicate have a direct connection to my skin? fuck that." Jack spat. He stepped into one of three circular re-fitting units placed in the cargo bay, and its robotic arms worked quickly and efficiently as they started removing the pieces of his battlesuit.

"You are paranoid Captain, and to be frank, you are not that interesting." remarked VIC dryly.

"Oh really? Didn't you just complain about the prospect of an existence without me?"

"Oh well, what is it you Terrans say? Lesser of two evils. Honestly, it's a wonder I haven't short-circuited myself a long time ago."

"We can remedy that real easy VIC."

"Well you're in a mood." uttered VIC before hovering past Jack, towards his detached robot body in the engineering room.

Jack smiled at that, as the re-fitting unit removed the last piece of armor, leaving him in his black mesh suit.

Jack exited the unit and went straight for the Captain's quarters in the upper level of the ship.

As he walked up the metal stairs from the cargo bay, and through the well-lit corridors he ran a hand gently -- almost lovingly -- across the cold surface of the walls. With the engines off, the ship was quiet, with only a few electronic sounds audible from the spacecraft. Amagi was resting, and she snored only lightly.

Jack knew his ship almost better than he knew himself. Awake or asleep, he would hear his girl's voice in the creaks of the hull, the humming from the cybernetics, and the moans from the engine. She was a benign thing, his Amagi, and her complaints were gentle. Jack had never loved anything quite like her.

The ship had been the means of his emancipation from military servitude in a war that had gone too far. She was his freedom. Without her, he would feel like a prisoner. But Jack liked to think that he was her freedom too. That without him she would be destined to a neglected and sad existence on border patrol for the Federation. His girl deserved better. They needed each other.

When he reached his quarters, the door slid open with a hiss of air, and he entered the sizeable room. It was spartan in decoration, but it was the only room on the ship with a private shower and bath. Despite the limited decoration, the room was quite luxurious compared to the standard Captain's quarters on the Vega-class warbirds. As Federation military crafts, they were built for efficiency, not luxury, even for the senior officers. However, Amagi had for a short - and quite terrible - time been in the hands of a Vexetrian pirate named Oden-Orr.

The vain pirate had upgraded the room by adding smooth paneling of Omarian wood, high-quality furniture from the Core and bunch of accessories that Jack had mostly sold or thrown out. The obnoxious pirate had also added a fair deal of portraits, with himself as the muse. Works of "art" that had been shot out the airlock and completely disintegrated.

One of the few pieces of decoration Jack had added after regaining the ship, was a Vexetrian skull mounted on a golden rotating apparatus, that had once held a replica of Orgydorr - the Vexetrian homeworld. However, one of Jack's earlier acquaintances who had hated Oden-Orr even more than him had found it amusing to mount the skull of the pirate on the apparatus in the globe's place.

It was a somewhat morbid decoration, but it was a good example of what would befall anyone attempting to take Amagi from him, and it reminded him of the woman that had made it, although he only thought of her at the darkest of times. Or so he liked to tell himself.

After a quick steam shower, and a change of fresh clothes, Jack left his quarters and went to the cockpit, where he tossed himself into the comfortable pilot's chair, typing in the coordinates for Omicron station. A holographic version of the infamous space station appeared on the holoprojector. Built as a free port in the unclaimed Rumalien-system, by a notorious triumvirate of ultra-wealthy liberty seeking souls, including Takarian Moor, sometimes referred to as the king of pirates. The station appeared as a half-finished ring around a small moon. Jack quickly accepted the destination and the system started to compute the best route.

"Charting route to location. Route charted." Sounded the synthetic female voice of the control system.

Jack saw that the route would take him through the Carrius-system in the Mortix Nebula. He had a warrant there, so he quickly greyed it out on the interface, and the system began re-calibrating.

"New route charted, added approximately 1 day, 14 hours of travel."

Jack pressed 'accept', and the interface complied with a beep. The ships engines roared to life, and the Amagi took off with all the strength and grace of a hammerhead shark.

As the ship exited the mining station, Jack took a bottle of whiskey from a storage compartment underneath the dashboard. Leaning back into his chair, he poured a glass of the amber colored liquor and turned on some old Terran music on the starships dashboard.

The music had been all he had brought with him from the orphanage on Trexion V where he grew up. The music had technically belonged to his caregiver Gurla, an old blind Kormak at the orphanage. It was all she had listened too. Somehow it had stuck with him throughout his entire life. Sometimes he even listened to it in the same order as Gurla had. The music was a constant reminder, that times could always be worse, and that after all, it was better to be alive than dead.

As the smooth thirty-three-year-old scotch washed down his throat, Amagi cut through the blackness of space like a shark seeking prey. And as the a capella intro of Kansas hit-song 'Carry on Wayward Son' sounded through the cockpit speakers, Jack closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the small goddess, that had turned from passionate lover to terrified prey. A goddess caught on a barren rock.