...
Act II
A Christmas to remember
Chapter 28
Here's to us!
Jim felt sick. And old. Every bone in his body was aching, and when he looked into the mirror, he could see an old and tired man. One that had reached the end of the line. Two days had passed since his, well, mental breakdown. Men like him usually were very eager to hide those signs of weakness. If you work with tough men and women on a daily basis, you have to show no fear and doubts. It was the old "alpha-male"-story. Be the biggest shark in the pond or shut up and fall in line. Many of his Raiders had been idealists, but not all of them. For every guy like Matt, Jim had commanded at least two guys like Tychus; crooks and thugs that had only joined their little freak show because the Raiders had offered them a bed, warm food and a reason to shoot at Dominion soldiers.
And let's not forget the mercenaries. Those guys had been the worst. We're not talking about the professionals, but the wannabes. You always have to act like you're the toughest son of a gun in the entire galaxy in order to earn their "respect".
Jim had played this role for almost his entire life. For many years he had even believed that he truly was a badass. Fight hard, drink a lot, flirt with the ladies, you know, the usual stuff. However, at one Jim had realized that he had just fooled himself. He wasn't meant for this kind of life. He didn't want to live like that. He had realized that when he had met Liddy, and then again when their son had been born. Some would call it boring, but he had finally found what he had always wanted; a home and a family.
Hadn't worked out so great, now had it?
Too bad that people will always remember you for the stupid stuff you've done in the past. Even though a lot of the Raiders had followed him because he had fought for a better world, they had only done it because he had acted like a tough and rugged soldier, one who would never quit, no matter what.
However, every journey ends someday. Everybody reaches the point where they can't go on anymore, where they have to admit that it had all been nothing but an act.
Jim wasn't embarrassed anymore. He knew that Smith had watched him crying. And neither did he care that Matt knew about it. In the end, it didn't really matter anymore. He looked at his own image in the mirror and frowned.
"You sure have seen better days, old boy." he whispered to himself. "Whadda'ya think, Sarah? Not much left of the man you once loved, hmm?" But Sarah's voice didn't answer. Even though he knew that it had just been a hallucination, it had been his hallucination. He stared at his own image for what felt like hours, though it were probably only minutes. The edges of the mirror started to turn steamy. The shower was still running and the hot water was raising the temperature inside the bathroom to sauna levels.
It was a colossal waste of hot water, but Jim didn't care. The hot and humid air felt good on his skin, and it helped him with his aching bones. The years of fighting had taken their toll on his body. If you mistreat yourself like Jim had, you will have to pay the price one day. It was especially bad when it was cold. His scars started to ache and his head started to pulse in pain.
If this was what getting old felt like, then he was glad that he had not that many years ahead of him anymore. The thought of spending the next 20+ years like this was simply unbearable.
Jim groaned and pressed his hand against his chest. Those damn pains, they simply wouldn't go away. It was especially bad after getting up. His lungs burned like fire and then he started to cough. It was a sick, wet cough, one that made you shudder when you heard it. And the stuff that left his throat? Jim had no idea what it was, but he didn't really want to know it anyway. He looked into the sink and saw the dark substance. It almost looked like tar, mixed with his own blood. Perhaps all that smoking hadn't been so clever after all.
Almost every breath was painful, and once he had freed his lungs from that stuff, he felt so tired that wanted to return to the bed immediately. And this happened every morning.
It hadn't been that bad until the Christmas party. All that action and fighting had been too much for his bruised and exhausted body. He probably should go and see a doctor, but what could those guys tell him? That he was dying? Boo Hoo.
He wasn't afraid of death. And he was bored with his life. He wouldn't just hang around in order to please Matt or anyone else. The only one who could have changed that wasn't around anymore...
Jim opened the faucet and flushed the stuff down the drain. There was no need for anyone to see it. If Smith would find out, he would only tell Matt. And the Admiral would then have someone clone a new pair of lungs immediately.
When Jim was done, he turned off the shower and the faucet and prepared for the day. He put on some clothes and when he left the bathroom, Smith was already waiting for him.
"Mr. Raynor. I hope you have slept well."
"Hnnnn." was the only thing Jim replied. He simply walked past Smith and out of his bedroom. He knew where he had to go, what was expected of him. If he wouldn't do it, Smith wouldn't stop bothering him anyway. Both men walked down the staircase and when they entered the kitchen, his breakfast was already waiting for him. He sat down at the table and a member of the kitchen staff poured some hot and black coffee into his cup. Even though Jim hated this place, there was one thing that was excellent, and that was the coffee. He should probably not be drinking this stuff, considering his poor health. However, that coffee was just what he needed right now. Not only did he enjoy the feeling of the hot liquid streaming down his throat, but after one cup his headache usually started to fade away.
The breakfast was good. No, not good. It was exquisite. Old man Mengsk had employed the best of the best. The cook was probably a not just any random ship's cook. Everything Jim ate was both fresh and of the finest quality.
Jim Raynor wasn't exactly a breakfast-guy. The only thing he wanted was one warm meal a day. But he had to admit; he had gotten used to these breakfasts.
No one said a word until Jim was finished. Smith just waited next to the door, like he always did. When Jim was done, he stopped and a pained expression appeared on his face. This time it weren't his lungs, this time it were his muscles that screamed in protest.
"Mr. Raynor, are you alright?" Smith asked.
"Yeah, yeah. Just a bit stiff." Jim lied. "The damn bed is simply too soft for my tender young bones." He then straightened himself and groaned. Maybe he should spend the rest of the day in the bathtub. There was even a holoscreen in the bath, he could watch all the shows he had never cared for before.
"Tell you what, Smith, I would like to go out for a walk." Jim instead said.
"That sounds like a good idea. Do you wish to drive somewhere else or should we go from here?"
"Actually..." Jim told Smith. "...I wanted to go alone. You can stay here, don't worry, I won't get lost or anything." But when he saw the look on Smith's face (or the lack of any look), he realized that even a lone walk through the landscape would prove to be difficult.
"I will accompany you, Sir." Smith explained. Jim stepped back from the table and walked over to the door.
"I'm a big boy, Smith. You don't have to look after me and make sure that my shoelaces are done up." The moment those words left Jim's mouth, he could see how Smith's eyes wandered down to the older man's shoes.
"You did not just check if my shoelaces are untied, did you?" Jim growled.
"I cannot confirm or deny this, Sir." Smith just replied, and Jim shook his head both in anger and frustration.
"Bah, just let me through. I need some fresh air." Jim barked and walked towards the door.
"Of course, Sir. I will, however, stay close to you."
"Do what you want. It's not like I have anything to say about my life anymore anyway." Jim growled and walked through the door and out of the kitchen. Smith followed him like a shadow. A very quiet, very deadly shadow. Most people would probably consider it highly unnerving if a Ghost would shadow them, but Jim was used to that. In fact, he and Ghosts went along pretty well and...
Ah, who was he kidding? Nova and Tosh hadn't exactly turned out to be reliable allies. There had only been one Ghost that had been a true friend, and even more than that.
Sarah...
Jim put his hands into his pockets when he walked out of the villa. It was cold and he wore only some pants, boots, an undershirt, and a sweater. It was still planetary winter, and when he stepped out into the cold, he shivered and could see how his breath became visible right in front of his face.
"Sir, maybe you should grab a coat. It is cold out there." Smith then said, but Jim just ignored him. It was a cold, yes. But just like hot and humid was good for his skin, cold and dry helped his aching bones. He took a deep breath, which turned out to be a mistake. When the cold, clean air cut deep into his bronchi, the oxygen burned through his lungs and he had to cough several times. Like before it was an ugly sound of a wet and sick cough. Smith, of course, noticed that and decided to come closer when Jim continued to puke his lungs out. The older man pressed his hand against his mouth and he felt something wet coming out of his throat.
"Sir? Are you alright?" Smith asked and put his hand on Jim's shoulder. The former freedom fighter managed to calm down and nodded. When he pulled his hand back, he could see something red on his palm. He immediately put his hand into his pocket in order to hide the blood from Smith.
"Ye...*cough*...yes. I'm fine." he lied. Of course, Jim knew that Smith would report this to Matt, but he just didn't care. Not anymore. So instead, he simply decided to take a walk.
The area around the villa was pretty much only barren wasteland. Korhal was still suffering from the nuclear bombardment the old Confederacy had performed on this world all those years ago. Most of the planetary fauna and flora had been affected. But that didn't mean that Korhal was dead. It was only mostly dead.
At least there weren't any Zerg around. And that was a goddamn miracle. Usually, if Zerg invade a world, they would always stay a part of it. If Jim remembered correctly, the Protoss were still trying to purge the feral Zerg from Aiur. And even though he wished Artanis only the best, he had his doubts that they would succeed.
Jim had no real target location in mind when he started to walk down the dusty path that led away from the villa. It didn't take long for him to be out of breath, though. This place wasn't much above water level, yet when Jim started to walk up a small hill, he could feel how that burning sensation inside his lungs returned. It was utterly pathetic. A few days ago, he had been able to fight some guys a lot fitter than him. But it appeared as if this fight had been a bad idea. It seemed as if his body was failing him fast.
When he had finally climbed the hill, he felt utterly exhausted. And not only that. Aside from his burning lungs, he felt dizzy and sweated like crazy.
"Mr. Raynor, perhaps we should go back to the villa. You don't look so good." Smith said behind him. Jim looked over his shoulder and realized that Smith wasn't sweating at all. Bah, kids these days.
"And you think I would look better once I would go back to bed and sleep like a good old fart should?" Jim snarled at Smith. He didn't want to sound like an ass. He knew that Smith was just doing his job. However, at the same time, Jim had run out of patience. He wasn't some kind of vegetable you could simply pull out of the fridge when you needed it.
"That's not what I meant, Sir." Smith then said. "But maybe we should make another appointment with a doctor. It seems that you're not doing well. Maybe we should look for another doctor and-"
"No doctors, Smith. And just do me a favor and be quiet, will you?" Jim growled. "I just want to be left alone. Is this so hard to understand?" The hill was actually a nice location to sit down and look at the landscape. And Jim knew that he wouldn't be able to climb the next hill. So he sat down on one of the dusty rocks and stared into the distance.
"Sir, I understand your feelings. But there are still people who need you and don't want to see you suffer." Smith tried to reason with him. It only caused Jim to produce a bitter laugh.
"Friends, right. Like who? Matt? Or Valerian? They're busy with their own lives." He took a deep breath and then looked over at Smith. "Let me tell you something, buddy. When you feel like it's time to leave, don't hesitate. We all have a purpose in life, something we have to do. But once that duty is over, we have to move on and find another reason to live. That's my failure. I failed to find a new purpose. Heh, maybe I even refused to find a new purpose, unlike Matt and Valerian. Hell, even Swann knows what he wants to do." Jim took another deep breath, but he regretted that immediately when the cold air burned inside his wounded lungs. He coughed again and leaned forward in order to ease the pain in his chest.
Smith frowned when he saw that. This man wouldn't last another six months.
"I asked for this job." Smith suddenly said. When Jim had finally stopped coughing, he looked up to his bodyguard.
"What?"
"I asked for this job." Smith then repeated. "To be your bodyguard."
"Seriously? Why?" Jim asked, even though he didn't really want to know the truth. Smith would probably only tell him something that was supposed to make him feel better. Smith knelt down next to him and looked into the distance.
"I never worked as a Ghost-operative." Smith mumbled. "After my...graduation...I was assigned to protect several important people. It was back when the Confederacy was still in power. It was strange at first; I had trained for years to assassinate people, yet I was only used as a bodyguard." He then did something he had never done before; Smith took off his sunglasses and looked at the horizon.
"I never had many friends. We Ghosts aren't exactly party people. But there were two or three other Ghosts that I liked. I suppose they were the closest thing to a family I ever had." Smith explained. "When the Confederacy fell, we all ended up somewhere else. Some of us stayed with the Confederacy until it was swallowed up by the Dominion. I was one of those guys. Others decided to not join the Dominion, and either became mercenaries or died fighting for the now defunct Confederacy." Smith shook his head when he told that part of the story.
"A war between Ghosts?" Jim asked, but his bodyguard just shook his head.
"Hardly. Like said; I'm just a level three operative. We never trained or worked with anyone above level five. Those guys were the real deal. But there were plenty of us, even though I only kept track of a few of my old comrades. Sometimes I got letters or messages. Some tried to find their old families again. Others simply vanished. But there were a few who had actually decided to join a certain freedom fighter in order to fight the Dominion." Now Jim shook his head.
"I worked with Ghosts from time to time." That was probably the understatement of the century. "I think I would have known if these guys had been under my command."
"You probably didn't notice it because they were like me; barely able to use their psionic abilities. I read your file, I know that you worked with and against the two single most powerful Ghosts the program has ever produced." So he knew about Sarah. Hmm, didn't change anything in the end, now did it?
"Are they still around?" Jim wanted to know. Maybe Smith could provide him with a few names. Names that he would recognize. But Smith shook his head.
"The last time I got a message from them was before your attack on Char. After that...nothing."
"Sorry to hear that." Jim mumbled. So Smith hated him because he was responsible for his buddies' death?
"That's war." Smith just said. "We were trained to fight and die should anyone order it. That was our only purpose. And I never questioned that purpose. Even now most of us still just think that way. But then I got those messages from the ones working for you." Jim knew that he wouldn't like it, but he would not run away from this either.
"What did they say." he wanted to know.
"That they finally felt like they were part of something bigger." his bodyguard explained. Jim looked over at Smith and seemed to be surprised.
"Say what?"
"It's true. Even though they were scared of the upcoming battle against the Zerg, they felt good because it was for the right purpose. For a good cause." Smith sighed when he said that. "I never truly thought about that. I was still guarding some fat and stupid inbred of former senator and didn't care about it. But then we received word from your victory on Char. Of course, the Dominion's propaganda was doing its best to cover the whole thing up. But I will never forget the look on their faces of my comrades that sent me those messages. Even though they were about to march to their death, they looked like they were happy. And then I finally realized it." he said.
"Realized what?" Jim wanted to know.
"They had things straightened out with themselves." Smith said and looked Jim into the eyes. "I don't know if you understand that, but for a Ghost, this is the ultimate goal. We were always trained to be nothing but killers. They made us do things during our training...horrible things. Guilt is an integral part of breaking a young trainee. They made us believe that we're less than human, that we're just a number. And when they release us from service, they don't really tell us how to deal with this crap either. That's why many decided to end their lives." He sighed. "But to see the look of hope on their faces...I couldn't stop thinking about it. And when I heard that you would join the Dominion, when I heard that you would come to Korhal, I asked for this position." Jim could see how Smith fixated him with his eyes.
"I wanted to see the legendary James Raynor with my own two eyes. I wanted to know what my comrades had seen in you."
"And? Disappointed much?" Jim growled, but Smith just shook his head and did another thing he had never done before; he smiled.
"No. On the contrary, I think I finally understand what they saw in you. But I have to be honest; it took me a while to see it. Only during the party, I finally managed to witness your true self." Smith got back up and put his sunglasses back on.
"When action called, you didn't hesitate. You led by example and you risked your own life for everyone else. Even though you took every stupid risk I could think of, even though you basically just stumbled from one firefight into the other, I still felt like it was the right thing to do. You inspired the people around you. And that's when I finally realized why my old comrades had joined you back then." Smith then straightened himself. He put his hand on his leg and Jim could see that the wound was still bothering him. "And it makes me wish that I had joined you back then."
"Then you would probably be dead, Smith." Jim told him.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I would have done something meaningful. You only know the good parts of me, Mr. Raynor. There's blood on my hand. Blood of innocents. And you're not the only one suffering from nightmares that haunt you every night." Now it was Smith who took a deep breath before he turned around and walked away.
"I will leave you alone now, Sir. Please don't do anything foolish. Shouldn't you be back in a few hours, I will call for a battlecruiser to look for you." With that Smith simply went away. Jim watched how his bodyguard became smaller and smaller until he was gone from sight. Well, at least now he could finally enjoy some peace and quiet.
But it wouldn't be quiet for long. A roaring sound reached his ears, and Jim recognized the sound immediately. At first, it was barely a whisper, but it soon became louder.
It was a dropship. And it was heading straight for the villa. Jim wasn't in the mood to go back. Whatever it was, it could wait.
But then Smith returned and when he reached Jim, he seemed to be just as baffled as the older man.
"Sir, you have to come with me. There's a dropship here for you. The Admiral wants to see you." he said to Jim, who groaned.
"Well, at least we don't have to take the car to Augustgrad." he just muttered, but then Smith shook his head.
"No, Sir. You won't go to Augustgrad. The pilot said that she's supposed to take you to the Hyperion."
The Hyperion looked almost exactly the way Jim remembered her. The only real difference was the fact that most of her navigation lights had been turned off. Only the lights that were truly needed still blinked, both the red and green ones. And as the dropship came closer, Jim could make out familiar features.
The Hyperion had been heavily modified by Swann and his people. Some additional plates of armor here, some fake turrets there. The ship possessed even a secret hangar that could store up to six additional Wraith-fighters for rapid deployment. The hanger itself was shielded from scanners. Truth to be told; they had only used it one time as a fighter hangar. Most of the time they had smuggled illegal stuff in it. Like booze, medicine, refugees. You know, the usual stuff.
The pilot didn't say much, and Jim was grateful for it. She landed her vessel in the primary hangar. There were two other dropships already waiting, and their pilots sat on a few crates near their ships. And they were...playing cards?
Perhaps Jim should have asked for more information, but even Smith hadn't been able to tell him anything else but "to get to da dropship!" Smith had remained behind, and Jim was glad about it. Not because he hated Smith, but because he was finally alone. Well, there was still the pilot, but that woman was like a mute. The landing was actually pretty smooth, he was used to much rougher landings. When the dropship came to a halt, the pilot opened its rear ramp and stood up.
"Sir, we have arrived. You may now leave the vessel."
"And do what? No one ain't told me nothin'!" Jim complained. The pilot stopped and pulled her helmet off.
"Is that even a sentence?" she wanted to know.
"It is now. What is going on here?" Jim then asked, but the pilot just shrugged her shoulders.
"Sorry, Sir. I was just ordered to bring you here. If you excuse me, I'm going to check my dropship now." She squeezed herself past Jim and walked down the ramp. Jim watched how she walked over to the other two pilots.
"What are you two jokers doing?" she said while laughing.
"What does it look like?" one pilot replied. "Got nothing else to do. Want to join? But be warned; we're playing with high stakes here."
"What's the stake?" the female pilot wanted to know.
"My integrity and Jeff's virginity." the first pilot then said. It caused the second pilot to look up.
"Hey!" he barked. "You don't have any integrity!"
"Call me in." Jim's pilot then said and sat down on another crate. For a moment, Jim thought about just staying inside the dropship and do nothing. He could also just steal this damn thing, he still knew how to pilot one of these. Hell, he once even had a dropship of his own. And not just any dropship. Swann had tuned that baby until it had been one of a kind.
Matt had told him that Sarah had used his dropship to go after him after Nova had caught him in Umojan space. He had no idea what Sarah had done with it afterward. It probably wasn't important anyway. Besides, right now he thought about taking this dropship and use it to crush into the nearest moon.
But then he decided that today wouldn't be the day to commit suicide. He was back on the Hyperion, he might as well find out why Matt had called him here. And he could take a tour through his old vessel. Who knew, maybe it would help him to think of something else for a while. When he stepped out of the ship, one of the pilots looked over to him.
"Sir, I was ordered to tell you that you should head to the cafeteria. The Admiral and his guests are waiting there for you."
"Guests? What is this about?" Jim wanted to know, but the pilot just shrugged his shoulders.
"Beats me, Sir. That's all I was told. But you should better hurry, looks like the Admiral was really worried about something." Well, that didn't sound good. What did Matt need now? A hug? A kick in the butt? Both? Jim sighed. He really wasn't in the mood for this kind of crap. He remembered their talk that had turned into an all-out yelling contest. He had said a lot of things he hadn't meant like that. If anything, he could at least tell Matt that he was sorry about some of the things he had told him. Not anything, but some things. And so, Jim decided to do as he was told, even though it had started to get old ages ago.
At least no one tried to explain to him how to get to the cafeteria. And as he walked through the empty corridors, he felt a certain sense of nostalgia. It almost looked like he remembered it. But there was one thing missing; there wasn't anyone around. The whole ship was silent, it almost felt like a grave. And it was in bad shape. A ship of this size required constant maintenance. Even if you don't maintain it for just one month, things start to break. And if a system breaks on a vessel this big and complex, it affects other systems as well.
The Hyperion was leaking, there was rust everywhere, and half of the systems seemed to be inoperable. In a way, she was just like Jim's own body. She was about to fall into pieces.
Jim wasn't in a rush and he thought about going to the bridge first. But then he decided to head to the cafeteria. Whatever Matt wanted from him, it was important enough to call him up here. Bah, it had probably something to do with their other talk. Now Matt felt bad and wanted to apologize or something like that. Should that be the reason for calling Jim up here, he would just refuse to talk about it.
Inside his mind, he thought about all possible reasons for Matt to call him up here, and each reason caused his mood to drop even further. When he stood in front of the cafeteria's door, he could already hear some voices on the other side. And they were...yelling?
"Oh, this better be good." he growled to himself and pressed the open button next to the door. And when the door opened and he stepped inside, he couldn't believe his eyes.
"...rink, drink, drink, drink, drink, drink!" both Matt and Rory Swann yelled while they watched how Valerian was emptying a bottle of what looked like Swann's infamous moonshine with long and deep gulps. You could actually see the pained expression on Valerian's face, but he didn't give up. Instead, he managed to empty the entire bottle, much to Matt's and Swann's enjoyment. They cheered when he put the bottle on the table and grabbed his own throat.
"Oh God, it burnssssss!" Valerian managed to gurgle before he fell off his chair and started to roll over the dusty floor.
"Wohooo, kid! That's the spirit!" Swann cheered before he put another bottle on the table. "And now do it again!"
"He's right, Valerian!" Matt then said. "You can only stop after your skin starts to get numb." When Jim saw that display in front of him, he frowned.
"What the hell is going on here?" he then wanted to know. That's when both Matt and Swann looked over at him. And they looked like two Zerglings that had just found the juiciest steak in the entire galaxy.
Matt had to admit; seeing the Emperor rolling over the floor while gasping for air was actually pretty damn amusing. Perhaps he should have acted more like a professional (or an adult), but he was already too drunk to care about any of this. Swann's moonshine was many things. Like for example life-endangering. But it was also the most potent stuff Matt had ever tried or heard of. The thing is; this stuff is just bad. Bad for your health, bad for your throat, and bad for your long-term memory. However, it was hilarious to watch others suffering from it.
"What the hell is going on here?" a new voice suddenly reached his ears. Both he and Swann looked up, and when they spotted the man who had just entered the cafeteria, both of them started to grin like two sharks.
"Heyhey, look who it is! The great Commander Raynor has finally arrived. About damn time if you ask me!" Swann said. Jim was actually glad to see his old chief engineer again. It had been some time since they had talked to each other.
"I repeat my statement; what's going on here, Matt?" Jim demanded to know. Swann's head turned back to Matt and his eyes widened.
"Uuuuuhh...you didn't tell him? Bold move, shiny, bold move."
"Shiny?" Matt asked and Swann started to gesture with his hands.
"Yeah, that's my new name for you. Shiny! Because of all those shiny medals you wear. Well, that you usually wear." Right now, Matt wasn't wearing his uniform. Instead, he just wore normal pants and a sweater. He looked like a random guy from nowhere particular. And Jim had to admit; he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Matt wearing anything else but a uniform or some sort of formal attire.
Valerian, who was still laying on the floor, looked very un-Emperor-like. Unlike Matt, he wasn't even wearing normal pants or a sweater, but a gray jogging suit. He too looked like some random dude, not like the Emperor of the Dominion.
And the fact that he was rolling over the dusty floor of the cafeteria while gurgling in discomfort was not really helping either.
"Oh, God, it burns! It burns so much!" Valerian gargled. Jim pulled one brow up. He knew that feeling. Swann's moonshine was more than enough to make grown-up men beg for their mommies. And Jim knew what he was talking about.
"I don't even want to ask what this is about. And I'm pretty certain that I won't like the answer. But what in tarnation you think you doin' here?!" Jim then growled. Swann leaned backward and looked over at Matt.
"You tell him, he hates you anyway." he said with a big grin on his face.
"Thanks, Swann. You're a real pal, you know that?" Matt shot back before he too leaned back. He turned his gaze towards the gurgling mess that once had been a promising young Emperor, and tipped his foot against the younger man. Yet neither Matt nor Swann did seem to care about that.
"The Hyperion will leave tomorrow. Swann will take her to Meinhoff and from there I don't know where. And that made me thinkin'." Matt explained.
"Uuuh. That's dangerous." Swann mumbled and took another gulp from his bottle. "Better stop doin' that!" But Matt and Jim decided to ignore the drunken engineer.
"Valerian spent so much time on this ship, yet he never truly did become a member of the Raiders. This is pretty much the last chance we have. We got three Raiders and the Hyperion. Given everything that has happened in the last few months, I just wanted to do something for us. And for him. So yeah, how about it, Jim? Wanna introduce the boy to the Raiders, Raider-style?" Matt wanted to know with a grin on his face. It was brutally obvious that he too was drunk. Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"If I remember correctly, then you said that filling someone up with Swann's moonshine was barbaric and should be banned. Besides, we don't have any tattooist with us. And you need that tattoo if I remember correctly. Even you have one, Matt." Jim said with an annoyed tone in his voice. This was ridiculous. He hadn't come here to watch how those three would get wasted.
"Actually..." Matt suddenly said while grinning like an idiot. "...Swann has prepared a little something." The Admiral looked over to Swann, who pulled a tattoo gun up from under the table.
"You gotta be shittin' me." Jim then said. "Are you guys out of your mind?"
"The short answer? Yesssss." Matt replied and had some more moonshine. Unlike Valerian, he wasn't screaming in pain, but judging from the expression on his face, it was rather painful.
"Oh man...oh hell...why did I agree to this..." Valerian panted and rolled on his back. He didn't look so good. Like someone who had just downed a bottle of industrial detergent.
"You didn't call me up here so I could witness how you destroy the Emperor both physically and mentally, now did you?" Jim then wanted to know.
"That might be one of my motivations, yes. But not the only one." Matt replied before he pointed his finger at a chair next to him. "Come on, have a drink. It's my treat."
"Actually..." Swann interrupted and pulled another bottle of his moonshine from under the table. Just how many of those things did he have down there? And how did he manage to hide them under the table anyway? "...that's my stuff. And you didn't give me any money!" he complained.
"I gave you a battlecruiser, Swann. I think that's worth some more bottles of your poison. Now hand me over the next bottle!" Matt then ordered
"YaddaYaddaYadda. Still a stick up your ass, I see. Here, take it and choke on it!" Swann mumbled and handed him another bottle. Matt turned to the table next to them and grabbed two (not very clean) glasses.
"Come on, Jim! Time to enjoy ourselves a bit!" Matt explained.
"You kept me away from any booze for almost two years. And now you want to share a drink with me?" Jim snarled. Matt's eyes widened and suddenly he looked like he had made a mistake.
"Jim, listen. I'm sorry for-"
"Shut up and fill up that glass." Jim interrupted him and sat down at their table. "And fill it to the brim." Even though Jim's expression was sour, Matt couldn't help but smile. He had expected Jim to yell at him, but it appeared as if this argument was already over. Phew, lucky him.
Matt knew that it was wrong to allow Jim to drink something with alcohol inside. Even though it was debatable if Swann's moonshine could truly be considered alcohol or just poison, it was still a bad idea to hand that stuff over to someone who was addicted to alcohol. They had managed to keep Jim clean for several months now. Every doctor would tell you that the last thing you should give to an alcoholic was a "good job on staying dry!"-beer.
But this was different. After today, Matt wouldn't have to worry about Jim's health anymore.
Hopefully.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Cowboy!" Swann said to Jim while Matt filled up their glasses. "It's good to see you, even though you look like crap. Oh, hey, by the way; Merry Christmas everyone!" That's when the eyes of Matt, Jim, and Valerian widened at the same time.
"Uhm, haven't you heard the news?" Jim mumbled and Swann started to laugh.
"News? Ha! Whadda'ya think I've been doing here? Sit on my ass and watch shows on tv? No, I've been working on my baby! No time to watch no stinking news!" Swann said and took another gulp from his bottle.
"Ah, nevermind. I didn't call you here so we could sulk about the past." Matt declared and looked Jim into the eyes. "Jim, I know that the last few months have been rough for you. I just thought, that after everything that has happened, we would deserve a day off. And since Swann will take the Hyperion out of here tomorrow, it is the last chance to show our young and promising Emperor what it means to turn your liver into a nuclear reactor. Besides..." he then added and Jim could see the pained expression on his friends face. Yes, he still considered Matt to be his friend. "...you were right; I had no right to keep you out of the loop." He grabbed one of the glasses and handed it over to Jim.
"Consider this a peace offer." he said and put the glass down in front of Jim. Jim didn't grab the glass immediately. He had craved a glass of booze for such a long time, and now it was standing right in front of him. However, Jim wasn't just a thick piece of wood. He knew that he had a problem. He knew that he was an alcoholic. And he knew that without Matt, he would already have drunken himself to death.
Handing Jim over a glass of alcohol was like offering a Zergling a cow; it would result in carnage.
And since no one on board seemed to be the voice of reason, why the hell should Jim do that job?
So he grabbed the glass and put it to his lips. The moment the alcohol touched his tongue, his brain remembered all those drinks he had consumed before. The liquid streamed down his throat and the burning sensation felt all too familiar. It was like water falling on a dry sponge. His body remembered the sweet taste of alcohol, and any progress he had made so far on staying clean evaporated in an instant. His addicted mind started to release tons of happiness hormones. It was his very own drug-rush, and under normal circumstances doing something like this to Jim was not just madness, but plain cruel.
However, circumstances weren't normal.
Jim closed his eyes and enjoyed the taste of Swann's moonshine. Truth to be told; the stuff tasted horrible and you could barely consider it drinkable. But he didn't care. One more drink wouldn't kill him. Of course, this wouldn't be his last glass. Drugs aren't exactly a good way to solve your problems, but the moment the alcohol started to flow through his body, he felt everything around him became a lot more bearable. Oh yeah, that was the good stuff!
Matt watched how Jim enjoyed the taste of the booze and a sad smile appeared on his face. He then looked at his own glass and frowned.
"Well...to us, I guess." he whispered, grabbed it and took a deep gulp. Even though Matt couldn't tolerate alcohol like Jim, he still was more than able to empty the glass and feel how the moonshine started to affect both his body and mind.
For a moment no one said a word. Not until Valerian finally managed to get back on his feet and sat down next to them.
"Phew...that stuff is horrible." the Emperor managed to gurgle. "I hereby declare it to be banned!"
"You can't!" Swann shot back.
"Of course I can! I'm the bloody Emperor!" Valerian shot back.
"No, you can't. Because it's already banned!" Swann then explained to him.
"Oooh, I see. So, what now? Am I already a Raider?" the Emperor wanted to know, but Matt and Swann just grinned at him.
"Oh, isn't he cute? Thinks that one bottle makes him a Raider!" Swann chuckled.
"Give him some credit, he has never done this before." Matt replied. Valerian groaned when he heard that.
"So how much more do I have to drink?" he just wanted to know. That's when Swann put one, two, three, and finally four bottles on the table.
"You gotta be kidding me!"
There are several laws of nature no one can escape. Like gravity. Or aging. Or the fact that the silent ones are the worst. However, among the most hideous and wretched things in this universe were a bunch of guys drinking and making fun of everyone and everything.
Seriously, if guys drink and "have a good time", it usually means that they make all sorts of nasty jokes and tell the dirtiest stories you can imagine.
And guys like Jim and Swann? Let's just say that Valerian learned a lot of new words that evening. And not a single one was meant for an Emperor to be used on any occasion.
"...and that idiot did just that. He said: No worries, I drank a liter of lemonade! These Zerglings won't do shit to me!" Matt said and shook his head. "So, he opened the hatch, and of course everyone was making a step backward, and he walked straight up to that Zergling. Said: "See, see? Told you so! Saw it on tv!" And that was when the Zergling threw itself at him. Oh, it was glorious!" Swann then took over for him.
"Oh, but the best thing was that no one was offering him any help! Seriously, he lay there and the Zergling was gnawing through his shiny new power armor!" Then Swann leaned back and took a deep breath.
"EEEEEEEHHH, take it off! Take it oooooofff!" he screamed like a little girl and shook his head before he started to laugh. "Oh, it was glorious! There were like twenty or so marines just standing around and doin' nothin' while Stetmann was pooping his own pants. But this guy over here was the best!" Swann pointed his finger at Matt.
"When Matt asked via radio what was going on, someone told him that Stetmann was about to get devoured by a Zergling. And you know what this son of a gun did?" Swann asked. Valerian, who looked like he was totally drunk, shrugged his shoulders.
"No, what did he say?" he said with a slurred voice while taking another gulp from the bottle.
"Put his comm on the speakers!" Swann recalled. "The whole ship listened to Stetmann's cries." And now it was Matt who screamed like a girl.
"Aaaaah! Take it oooofff!" the drunken Admiral imitated the former Raider's chief scientist. "I'm too young to die! I'm still a virgin! I… I think I pooped my pants! AAAAAAAHHH!" Then Matt calmed down and sighed. "Oh, that was so worth it."
"You're one mean bastard, Matt." Valerian mumbled. "And here I always thought that you were a true boyscout."
"Hehehe, oh, you should never do something that could piss off the boyscout. Or he will make you suffer." Swann explained. Valerian looked over at Matt and frowned.
"Wha...wha...whaddid Stetmann do to you." the Emperor said, and it was clear that his tongue was starting to get heavy.
"Flooded the ship with shit, that's what he did." Matt growled and Valerian started to laugh.
"Hahaha...what kind of shit?" he wanted to know, not realizing that Matt wasn't talking about some strange shit, but the one and only.
"The stuff that comes out of your butt, Junior." Jim chuckled. His mood was still way below zero, but at least he seemed to enjoy the alcohol. When Valerian heard that, his eyes widened in shock.
"Say what?" It was Swann who then told him about all the glorious details.
"That idiot thought that he could improve the energy consumption of the Hyperion by combining some systems. And he thought that he should start with the sewage and the drinking water. He wanted to add a filter, but of course he forgot about that. And not only that, when he turned it on, he accidentally reversed the flow of water." Now Swann couldn't stop laughing. He pointed his finger at Matt and tears of joy streamed down his cheeks.
"The boyscout over there was in the shower when it happened. Oh, you could hear his screams of rage on the entire ship!" the engineer said and Matt just shook his head.
"That wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing was that this idiot opened all the valves on level 8 and flooded the whole section with that stuff! We had to seal off the entire level!" Matt growled and Valerian shook his head.
"I bet cleaning this level must have been fun!" But then both Matt and Swann gave him an annoyed look.
"What?"
"Actually...we never cleaned it. We just sealed the level off and never spoke about it again." Matt mumbled.
"Anyway, when that Zergling started to claw through Stetmann's armor, no one wanted to help him. They all just stared at him and started to bet how long it would take until the Zergling would eat him."
"Meh, the Zergling didn't even want to eat him." Matt growled. "And I lost twenty credits because I thought that the Zergling would need less than a minute."
"Must have been hilarious." Valerian mumbled when he heard that.
"Oh, you should have seen Matt! He was cursing like a sailor! He even said that he would send Stetmann into one of those Dominion's death camps, you know? The things the Confederacy had used before? Matt was so furious that everyone was scared of him." Swann said and even Matt chuckled.
"Yeah, guess I went a bit overboard. But damn, I was so mad at that guy."
"You know..." Jim then suddenly interrupted them and looked at the three men with a cold gaze. "...my uncle died in one of these death camps."
Oh shit.
You know when there's this awkward moment of silence? When you know that you've just said something incredibly stupid and now a volcano was about to explode? Everyone turned pale in an instant. And you could see that Matt realized that he was in deep shit. Literally.
"Jim, you never told me...I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Yeah, that bastard was so drunk, he fell down from the guard tower and broke his neck!" Jim then told them. There was another moment of silence before they saw how the corners of his mouth went up.
"BFFFFFFFFFF..." It was Swann who couldn't hold back anymore first.
"BAHAHAHAHAHA!" Valerian started to laugh, even though he shouldn't. And soon all four men were laughing their asses off.
Hey, if grown-up men decided to drink themselves into oblivion, things like this can happen, you've been warned. And yes, it ain't a pretty sight. So here they were, making ungodly indecent jokes about everything and everyone while having the time of their lives.
"So, there's a whole level on this ship that you can't access because it's filled with...?" Valerian wanted to know after they had calmed down.
"Shit. Yep. It took us several weeks to make sure that the smell would stop. Oh God, I can still smell it when I close my eyes." Jim groaned before he took another gulp. Then he started to laugh.
"But you know what? We actually lost someone that day." Now he snickered like a little child and Matt leaned back.
"Don't tell him, he won't believe it anyway. Besides, it's a horrible way to die." Matt growled and Valerian looked at both men.
"What? What happened?" the Emperor wanted to know and Matt groaned, knowing that Jim would tell him the story anyway. Jim, on the other hand, leaned forward and had a hard time finding the right words.
"There was a mercenary on board. His name was Davis something, something." Jim then said.
"Davis Terrenzi." Matt told them.
"Right. So Terrenzi had joined us only recently. Bit of a hardass. And a huge dick. Seriously, no one liked him."
"What we didn't know..." Matt then added. "...was the fact that he was a Dominion spy."
"That's why Matt's so pissed. That guy was a spy and the Admiral over here didn't know that. When he joined us, he did so under a false name and claimed to be a farmer's son from Shiloh. You know, the sad story that makes anyone weep; lost his family to the Confederacy and now wants to fight the Dominion. He still had a mother though, and he always wrote her letters." Jim went on.
"Most people wrote letters and we never bothered checking them." Matt explained. "But those letters weren't meant for his mother. They were encrypted and meant for the Dominion's intelligence service."
"Yeah, but we didn't know that back then." Jim chuckled again. "So when no one heard anything from Terrenzi for several days, we went into his cabin and..." But Jim couldn't continue. He was starting to laugh and Valerian pulled his brows up.
"He was dead?" the Emperor wanted to know and Jim just nodded. He tried to continue, but he couldn't. He was laughing too hard. So Matt sighed and continued for him.
"We found him in a rather...compromising position." he explained.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the Emperor asked.
"Means that he had shoved his head down the toilet." Swann then said. Valerian's eyes widened when he heard that.
"What? Oh, now you're making fun of me!"
"No! No, seriously!" Jim laughed. "That guy had shoved his head down the toilet. Don't ask me why, but he had this strange loverbot with him. You know, these androids that people use as hookers?"
"Uhm...no?" Valerian replied truthfully, but Jim just shook his head.
"Anyway, we found him still bowed forward, on his feet, with his head shoved down the toilet. Oh, and his pants were open as well."
"Why would his pants...eeeeewww. Nevermind. I don't want to know." Now both Jim and Swann giggled like little girls and Matt shook his head.
"We stood there for minutes and didn't know what to say or to think. Seriously."
"So he had died because...?"
"Because when he had shoved his head down the toilet, Stetmann switched the new and improved system on and, well, Terrenzi found out what happens if you put your head down the rabbit hole." Jim laughed.
"Damn." Valerian muttered before a smile appeared on his face. "What a shitty ending."
"BWUAHAHAHAHA!" the others started to howl. It took them some time before they had finally calmed down. That's when Jim shook his head.
"Oh, story ain't over yet. The best thing is still to come." he declared and looked at Valerian. "Now I've seen my fair share of strange shit, pun totally intended." Everyone started to snicker. "But I still thought that I had to tell his people about his, well, demise." While Jim said that, Matt had a hard time to keep a straight face. He had to bite his lip in order to not laugh out loud.
"So, we only knew that he had a mother, and we still had no idea that he was actually a spy." Jim continued. "So, I spent like two days trying to figure out how to tell the good lady that her son had died because, hahah, because, hahahahaaaa!" Jim wasn't able to finish that sentence, so Matt did that for him.
"Because he had forced his head into the toilet." the Admiral finished.
"I still remember that I had no idea how to write a letter to that woman!" Jim yelled. "Dear Ms. Terrenzi. I have the grim (and hilarious) duty to inform you that your son died in a tragic toilet accident!" Now all four men started to roar in laughter.
"He was so young, but unfortunately he had his head in the wrong place!" Matt added.
"You could even say; shit happens!" Valerian added and they had to laugh so hard that some of them fell off their chairs and held their bellies. It was just too much! Like said; drunken men can turn into small boys. But it wasn't the lowest level they could reach. Oh no, it would only get worse from here on out...
So the talk continued, and so did their dirty jokes. However, after a while Valerian was done listening to stories.
"See, kid? You missed all the fun!" Swann gargled, almost too drunk to sit upright. "All that fancy Emperor-stuff. Bet'cha never took a piss without people wiping your butt!"
"Swann, don't be an ass." Jim then said. Even though he was just as drunk, his body could handle all the alcohol much better. Or it was because of all the holes in his liver? Meh, who cared.
"What? Kid knows I'm not dissing him. It's just a fact. He dudn' dosn' dieaon dosn'...ain't know shit about, well, shit." They all giggled again, and Valerian suddenly started to shake his head.
"Actually...I got a story. One that will probably ruin my reputation should you ever tell anyone about it. Oh, it's not nearly as crazy as the stuff you did, but it's something. I guess."
"Uuuuuh." Jim grunted. "Dirty stories of the Emperor? We could sell that to the press! Bet Lockwell would love to hear about it, whadda'ya say, Matt?" When Jim mentioned that name, all Matt did was to shudder.
"Okay, so here's my story. You know that most little boys want to become a pilot or something like that? Well, when I was four or five years old, I wanted to become a cartographer." The three men looked at Valerian in both surprise and amusement.
"A cartographer?" Swann asked. "Why the hell a cartographer? Wait, what's even a cartographer anyway?"
"It's someone who makes maps." Matt told him and Valerian nodded.
"One of my teachers always read me stories about Earth and the time before humanity had traveled to the stars. They had used ships made out of wood in order to travel the huge oceans, and there was a time when they hadn't known anything about what was on the other side of those oceans. It had been the grand age of..."
"YaddaYaddaYadda, get to the point, kid!" Swann interrupted him and Valerian sighed.
"Okay. Well, I loved those stories. And I wanted to become a cartographer. But I was only four or five years old and couldn't pronounce cartographer. And then there was Willis."
"Willis?" Matt asked.
"One of my father's bodyguards. He was a grumpy asshole that cursed all the time. Seriously, he knew how to insult you in at least fifteen different languages. But he was still a nice guy when we were alone. And one day I told him that I want to become a cartographer. Of course, I asked him what he wanted to become."
"Oh, this should be good." Jim chuckled and Valerian shook his head.
"He was a real asshole. And a sexist pig. He was later fired because he had abandoned his post in order to go into a brothel. So, when I told him that I want to become a cartographer, he said that he wanted to become a..."
"Oh God." Matt groaned.
"...cuntographer. Yep. And, of course, I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought it was some kind of cartographer." The three men started to laugh, but the story wasn't over yet.
"I asked him what he meant, and he only told me that a cuntographer is far cooler than a cartographer. And of course, I believed every single word." Jim, Swann, and Matt tried to suppress their laughter, but they failed miserably. Valerian's expression showed both shame and amusement at the same time.
"Naturally, the whole thing wouldn't end well. A few days later a friend of my father would come and visit us in our hideout. He was an influential politician, and father had instructed my mother to show how well behaved I was. And when we met, what was the first thing he asked me?"
"What you want to become when you're a grown-up?" Jim asked and Valerian nodded, so everyone snickered again. Even Valerian.
"So, I looked up to the man with big, sparkling eyes and told him that I want to become a cuntographer." And again, the drunken men started to roar in laughter. Valerian just shook his head. "My mother almost fainted and my teachers were furious. But that guy? You know what he did? He knelt down in front of me, put his hands on my shoulders and said: I too would like to be a cuntographer from time to time."
"Oh, I bet your father must have been proud of you!" Jim snickered, but Valerian shook his head one more time.
"He never heard that story. He would probably have executed my teachers, and everyone agreed that we should forget about this whole thing immediately. I was still grounded until I reached puberty."
"I don't know, Junior." Jim then mused. "It could be a good title. His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Valerian Mengsk, Royal Cuntographer."
"Oh God!" Matt groaned.
"Yeah, well...I just wanted you to know that I too can tell stupid war stories. Only without the war. Oh, by the way; am I already a Raider now? 'Cause my liver kinda hurts, you know." he then mumbled. That's when Jim and Swann exchanged looks.
"Not yet. We still need to perform a certain ritual!" Jim explained.
"What ritual?" Valerian wanted to know. The smiles that appeared on Jim's and Swann's face were truly creepy.
"Time for a carrier landing!"
The carrier landing. You put a bunch of tables behind each other so they form the "landing strip". Then you put some liquid on it in order to make sure that everything is nice and slippery. And then you do a belly flop and look how far you get.
It was utterly stupid and everyone who was too drunk to count to three loved to do it.
"I'm not sure I want to do this, boys!" Valerian mumbled. He wasn't on his feet. Instead, sat on Jim's and Swann's shoulders. They called it "the carrier landing deluxe".
"Don't worry, it'll be fun!" Jim said.
"Yeah, fun!" Swann agreed.
"So what, you're gonna throw me on the table and look how far I will get?"
"Pretty much, yes. If you hit the other end of the wall, you win the jackpot." Jim told him.
"And what do I win if I manage to do that?"
"Dunno. A concussion?" Swann offered. Matt, who stood next to the tables, looked at the three men and raised his hand.
"Enough talk! Get ready! On my mark!" he barked and both men started to get ready.
"Go!" Both Jim and Swann ran towards the table, but they were far too drunk to run in a straight line.
"Guys!" Valerian managed to scream, but it was too late.
"Left, Swann! Left!" Jim shouted.
"I try, I try!" Swann shot back. "I need to go to the other left!"
"We share the same left!"
"Ah, nevermind. Off you go!" When they reached the tables, they threw Valerian forward. But pretty much everything went wrong. He was too fast, they threw him too hard and he had the wrong angle. Instead of sliding over the tables, he bounced off them and crashed into the pile of chairs that stood next to those tables. Head first. The young Emperor groaned in pain.
"Aaahhh...I think I just...broke my pelvis..." he managed to gurgle, but his "friends" just started to laugh when they saw how Valerian's upper body was buried beneath all those chairs.
"Well, I've seen better carrier landings." Swann then said.
"True. But I've seen worse, too." Jim then added.
"Solid five?" the engineer asked.
"Hmm...it was a nice bounce at the end. I would say a 6.5. Matt, what do you mean?" They looked over to the Admiral, who made a "meh"-gesture with his hand.
"Meh, I would only give him a 3. He tried to protect his face. You should always break with your face first." Matt mumbled, remembering his own carrier landing.
"I don't think I want to be a Raider anymore..." Valerian groaned while the room was still spinning around his head, but no one listened to him. That's when Matt felt a certain urge and stretched himself.
"Well folks, I need to get rid of some liquid. Don't try to break the Emperor while I'm gone. Well, not any more than you already did." The moment he turned away and walked over to the door, he only heard both Jim and Swann snicker.
"No promises, Admiral!" both men said at the same time, but Matt was too drunk to care. He walked over to the door and pressed the open button. When he stepped out, he yawned and couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard. It was truly-
"Sounds like one hell of a party." a woman said while leaning against the wall right outside the cafeteria. Matt froze in an instant. Even in his intoxicated state, he still realized that this wasn't a hallucination. He grabbed behind him and managed to press the door button. The door to the cafeteria closed and then he turned towards the redhead.
"Hey, Sarah."
"I think we overdid it, Swann." Jim said while he looked at Valerian, who was still half buried beneath all those chairs.
"Meh, I've seen worse. Besides, the kid can handle it." the engineer replied.
"Can I go home now?" Valerian groaned, his voice sounded tired and exhausted.
"Hmm...he did a carrier landing." Jim then said and looked over to Swann.
"And he downed several bottles of my moonshine." Swann agreed. That's when an evil grin appeared on both men's faces.
"Guess the only thing that's still missing-" Jim started.
"...is the tattoo." Swann finished the sentence and pulled the tattoo gun from his belt.
