For the rest of the week, Takato mostly slept in his apartment as his money slowly slipped away. He was down to just thirty thousand credits, and that would go pretty fast.
I wasn't good enough… I thought… He slammed his fist down on the table. I got arrogant, that's all. So why had he been shaking and sweating in the thick of things? He recalled similar times when he messed up, but none as badly as this. Takato had a habit of eating when he was depressed, (Thank God for teenage metabolism) and he pigged out this time. Anything from hamburgers to pizza became a gourmet dinner.
Takato absolutely hated to be beaten. Anything from holographic chess to a space battle would leave him fuming. The next morning though, he'd be his easy going self again. Not this time though.
He managed to bottle in tears, even in the total privacy of his apartment. He half succeeded, managing to have dry eyes as he lied to his parents about finding a home, a ship, and a job. His mother offered money about three times before his father came in.
He could use some money though.
That's why he picked the first contract that came up on the job board, babysitting an Oberon mining vessel at the Kuiper Belt. Yippee. He'd have two other partners though, because pirates and outlaws were everywhere. A payment of fifteen thousand credits was nice though, since the miner's target was an asteroid loaded with platinum.
Nothing hard, right?
Wrong.
* * *
Takato kept reminding himself of the rewards as Grinder 12 was continuously delayed due to "unexpected traffic".
"So, your name's Takato?" The pilot in the Piranha asked.
"Yup. You're…?"
"Violet, from Europa."
"I'm from Mars. My first real contract really. I'm surprised they hired me."
With a low chuckle, the third pilot, an older, dark skinned man said, "Oberon will hire anybody at this point, even the newbies."
"Shut up, old-timer."
"If things get hot, I'm not going over to change your diaper."
"Just don't fall asleep when your arthritis acts up."
"If you men will stop arguing, maybe you'd hear that Grinder 12 is ready for launch."
All three pilots came up to the mining vessel in a defensive triangle with Takato at the top. "Remember pilots," The captain said. "Keep the comms silent when we get there. Pirates prey on the chatter boxes." As the ship aligned itself, then sped up and jumped to hyperspace, the escorts went into the Tachyon gate.
The young pilot always had a love of travelling faster than light in the colorful, spinning void. This day though, it seemed kind of bland and black, maybe because of his mood.
Three ships magically appeared out of nowhere thirty seconds later, splashing through the Tachyon gate's field as they entered the Kuiper Belt. Grinder 12 was already several kilometers ahead, having locked onto the space rock.
Going along with the requirement, Takato kept his voice to his head. He looked outside, at the grand view of the Milky Way. He could stare at the mystifying, hypnotizing cluster of stars for hours, and might've, if not for the sudden outburst from the captain of Grinder 12. "Pilots, I have over fifty mines on my radar, twenty kilometers and closing. I'm shutting down our engines for now and contacting Oberon."
"Confirmed."
"Copy that."
"OK. Shouldn't we take some of them out?"
"Negative. At least, not until Oberon gives you the green light to."
Takato sighed, and reclined in his seat. Now I wait some more. What an exciting mission. Takato quickly fell into a nap. If life were a planet, Takato would be frozen somewhere in the poles of boredom.
* * *
On the other hand, Ruki was at the Equator, in the steaming jungles of exhilaration. At the New Haley Research Station, she'd bagged two kills, and began to hull a third.
The station had once blown up for still unknown reasons, and Jake Logan had been falsely blamed, being the only survivor. Rebuilt with fragments of the old station, it was now a piece of history. But a squadron of pirates was out to mimic the massacre that happened thirty years ago.
Fortunately, Zane's Roughriders were on the call, and twenty Gar light bombers had been thinned to five. It had been one of the best weeks of Ruki's life. The people of the mercenary squadron were nice enough, but still fit the description of 'roughriders'.
The Gar in front of Ruki exploded in a beautiful shower of fire and shrapnel. The Galspan Minelayer that the pirates had stolen (presumably stolen. When did pirates buy these things?) was looking nervous, and began to turn around.
"Attack the capital ship!" Zane ordered. "Make those pirates suck vacuum!" Zane had a deep commanding voice. In the background, it said: "Follow my orders." He also had sense of humor, which was a real plus on those long, boring flights.
Ruki armed her Spire rockets, then unloaded the last dozen in the compartment. Desperately, the minelayer fired red needle lasers at the missiles, failed spectacularly, and suffered major hull damage as projectile after projectile slammed into metal at regular intervals. Bleeding precious air, the minelayer's engine blew up, which caused the doomed ship to comically launch forward at a speed faster than the average minelayer.
Like a cartoon character with dynamite on its ass. "Let's leave `em." Ruki suggested.
"No, their comrades may try to recover them. Blow apart that sucker." Zane ordered
Ruki throttled to top speed, lining up with three other Roughriders who could keep up. At six kilometers, she fired a barrage of lasers. Seconds later, a series of large explosions ripped up the rest of the battered ship. The newest Roughrider simply smirked as the others whooped and cheered.
"OK, guys, form up with your partner and report." Ruki came up alongside her partner, Mullen. All but one Roughrider had come out clean. "Looks like we lost Harry." Zane said gravely. A brief pause of respect went out, then Migs said with a laugh:
"These pirates can't keep up with us."
"I hear we have reputation among them." Viktor, with his light Russian accent, agreed
"Hah! I'd love to see them cowering before us and lickin` our boots." Ben put in.
The pieces of conversation were common among a ragtag squadron like Zane's Roughriders. Ruki kept to herself though, as the eight ships boarded the Lucky Prospector through a makeshift hangar at the port side. Zane's flagship was once a heavy freighter, but through sweat and blood, he'd converted it into a mini-carrier. Inside was living space for ten, so he could only have seven co-pilots and a pilot for the freighter
Inside, the ships landed. The ranged from a Pegasus painted black to a Claymore heavy bomber with a yellow smiley face at its bow. It was often the last sight of pilots who dared to go head-on with Ben.
As Pixie headed back to New Zurich, Ruki hid the smile on her face. She couldn't help but smile. Nothing more fun than sweeping pirates out of the sector.
* * *
Takato could say differently ten minutes after his comm woke him up.
He looked at the clock on the console in front of him and realized he'd been asleep for about fifteen minutes. The comm crackled and spoke with Violet's voice again. "Do you copy? Takato, are you there?"
While sitting back up, Takato mumbled. "Yeah, still here."
"Where've you been? I've been trying to contact you for the past two minutes."
"Sorry, I…"
"Oberon said we should investigate. Grinder 12 is ready to take off at a second's notice."
"Right. Save a couple mines for me."
"We took out all the mines already."
"What?" Takato groaned, slapped himself on the head for being so stupid and dragged his hand over his face. "I'll catch up to you." He ignited the Disutchee's triple engines and headed for the tiny square on his screen, representing the platinum asteroid.
"No, it's OK, keep napping baby, you need your sleep."
Takato ignored the comment. He was distracted by what he saw in the targeting box. The asteroid was at least two hundred kilometers away, but Takato had gotten a separate camera installed. He zoomed in on the asteroid, and noticed a long white line leading away from it. He shifted the camera to the right a tiny bit, and saw a long, cylinder at the end of the line, then put two and two together. "Uh, hey. Has anyone noticed another ship is towing the asteroid out of here?"
"We know Takato." The captain informed him. "Our radar man noticed a slow but constant divergence in the asteroid's calculated path, so we assumed someone was stealing it."
"So let's go and make some sparks fly!"
"Hold up rookie." The old man said with a dark tone. "Oberon said "investigate" not "blow up."
"But you're losing about five million credits on that boulder! You'll let those dirty pirates just take it?" Takato's voice went from reason to shouting.
"Oberon won't miss five million. It's not worth it to risk our contract pilots." The captain's voice became grim. "I would like to remind you Mr. Matsuda, that if you do not follow orders exactly, your payment and contract will be put in jeopardy."
These stupid corporate idiots will sit and discuss but never act. Takato almost shoved his Disutchee into high gear, then stopped, as his hand was a centimeter away from the handle. Christ! When am I going to see some action? He would laugh later, much later, at that thought.
"Heads up, we have four bogeys, looks like Skav Mantas, coming in at fifty-two by one-six-oh." Violet said. The three ships simultaneously shifted to the designated coordinates. Takato noticed several red dots were on his radar. So my radar isn't faulty. The distance between them closed at a rate that seemed both too fast and too slow. At seven kilometers, both pilots were in range, and both fired a stream of lasers. Glowing red energy pelted Takato's front shields. He recognized the fire immediately. Pulsar Lasers, what're the pirates doing with those? The fresh pilot curled upward and back down. The pirate was still a ways off, and was daring for another round. One glance at the shield indicator made Takato take off though.
Lasers flashed at random places and flew past his screen. Doing everything to keep from panicking, Takato breathed as slowly as possible. It didn't help when he heard the sound of a shield being fried.
"I've picked up a tail, he's sticking to me like a magnet." The old man's voice sounded strained but still calm. Takato noticed a medium-sized starfighter twisting and turning to avoid the fire of a Manta. "One of you, I need a hand!"
"Takato, I'm busy with two Skavvies, go help him!"
"Oh but I thought the grown-up could handle anything." Takato said with a snicker.
"This ain't a joke kid… Takato. My shields are thinning."
"Hold on to your dentures pops, I'll be there in a minute." Instead of aiding the old man, Takato focused on a pirate that had made a bad mistake. His first true kill sent a wave of euphoria through him.
Not ten seconds later, the feeling of well being was dropped when there came: "My shields are down!" It took a long instant for Takato to realize it was the panicked voice of the old man, who he should've been helping. "Engines are dead, someone, help!"
Takato closed the gap, waiting for an armed Tiger missile to lock. A pirate in a custom yellow painted Manta was rounding, ready to make that last burst of lasers to destroy a target. The beeping of the computer became a solid tone to confirm a lock, and Takato launched a single missile at the pirate… too late.
In a gut wrenching scream, the old man, whom Takato had never known besides as "the old man" was blasted to smithereens. Another explosion brightened space as the Tiger Missile successfully avenged the dead pilot's death.
"Why didn't you help him?" Violet said with reprimand.
"I tried to, but I didn't realize how much danger he was until it was too late." Flashed through Takato's mind, but what came out was unintelligible mumbles.
"Forget it, just sweep up the rest of the Skavs." Takato ended up injuring the last one (with much less elation) while Violet methodically vaporized it.
"This is Grinder 12. We're heading back to New Zurich. Thanks for the hand, pilots."
"No problem." Violet replied.
Takato didn't. He was aimlessly floating through space, reflecting on the fact he had come out even lower at the end of this job than he had going in.
* * *
On the Lucky Prospector, Zane put out the contract message on the Job board. The same message he posted whenever a Roughrider became space dust. It'd been five years since he first recorded the message, and every other original of the squadron was dead. The aging man scratched his salt-and-pepper beard, like he always did when thinking hard or trying to remember.
We started with just five. He edited the message a little, changing the date and putting a note at the bottom. Five bored and broke friends that were all pilots, and decided to hire themselves out. Zane pressed the button to post his message. Right on our first mission, Red died. Just like that, he was gone. He headed past the cabin, where a round of drinks were being served, (the Roughriders had made headlines this time) and into his room. No other Roughrider had been in this room. I wasn't the leader, but I still remember Ark's last words, just before the chest pains muted him. "Zane, carry the tradition."
There wasn't anything special about the room; in fact it was pretty much like everyone else's room, except for the drawer by his bed. Inside was a veritable treasure trove of Roughrider history. Zane opened it and dug through the contents, found the mini-word processor, and loaded the tiny thing up. He loaded the single file on it, entitled "Roughrider's Dramatis Personae". Time to cross out another one. He went down the lengthy list of a hundred, give or take a dozen names; with him at number two, still without a death date.
The next name with a similar state was Mullen, who might as well have been his daughter. She was an ex-Demon Pirate, captured by other pirates (what the hell is with all these pirates?) at just fourteen and sold at an auction. Zane had shelled out twelve thousand credits for her, but she more than proved her worth. Mullen learned to speak in regular English, and became his shadow. Her excuse was some kind of "unpayable debt." probably because Zane had called out a thousand more than that fat old strip club owner. So now, two years later, she was the youngest, and arguably the best fighter, of the Roughriders.
Then came Pixie, the old, laid-back woman, who was once a wingman for none other than Jake Logan, and a Godsend with the Lucky Prospector. She was quiet, to herself, and happy to be in the pilot's seat.
There was a long line of deaths, about a year's worth, and then Zane finally hit Miglo "Migs" Jenshi, an ex-convict that was just three years shy of being the his senior. Even so, he refused to grow up. On the inside, he was still a blonde, smoking, partying teen.
Viktor Kurgan joined two months after Migs. The thin, short man was a two faced Soviet in a black Pegasus. On one side, he could sweet-talk an official to dip his or her head into the punch bowl, while the other was a sneaky little con-artist. For the most part, he could keep himself in line when fighting, but he'd gotten the entire group kicked out of places for not noticing that a camera was watching him as he stole something or other.
Ben, who had a severe case of pyromania, hooked up four and a half weeks ago. The guy was good with computers (when he wasn't beating the crap out of them in frustration) but he'd burnt himself about a dozen times. The result was a man with more artificial than real facial skin, giving him a skeletal look. There was something about Ben that made Zane think he belonged in a mental Institute rather than the Roughriders. The smiley face on his Claymore only magnified that point
There was a drought in pilots then, so Zane got a Jasper 1500 series, and it had mixed results. It was a loyal and uncomplaining copilot, but also a hole in his pocket. The makers required a fifteen percent cut to themselves.
Zane encountered Harry's name, not far from the bottom. He never had an opportunity to know the guy personally, but the jumpy, gaunt man wouldn't last long. The words "Died August 27th." were typed in, then Zane looked at the newest name on the list.
Ruki Makino had been in the Roughriders only a week, but she'd already earned a tough rep. If
(When)
Zane died, she would probably take his place, either by fair vote or bullying. Her motto probably goes "Speak softly and carry a big blaster." The hothead would undoubtedly break some bones and hearts.
Just like Etha, one of the original five. She could be such a sweet girl, and also a seductive dame. Even so, Zane had fallen over her. How foolish he had been. Just two weeks after they had spent the night with each other, several drugged pilots incinerated her, along with twenty others in a shuttle to Earth. God, I was numb for months.
Zane saved the file, then turned off the tiny device. That's enough memories for now. He gently closed the drawer, exited, and joined the others in celebration.
* * *
Takato almost immediately looked elsewhere when he saw the same contract for Zane's Roughriders. But his voice of reason kicked in. I could try again. It was just he and Ruki before, and the message had been up for two weeks. It seemed no one was interested in a mercenary squadron contract. Even so, being turned down twice would be the ultimate shame.
The unvoiced note at the bottom was the last push for Takato. It read: "Note: We will accept a first-come, first-serve basis due to the fact we are travelling to the Hub in two days."
Convinced, Takato gathered his materials at his apartment, returned the key, and again rushed off to his Disutchee.
* * *
Zane was surprised to see the pilot who'd lost to Ruki come back. Often, the defeated were so badly beaten, they didn't dare show their face again.
Takato though, had learned from his past experiences. He approached this time, with a cool, calm manner, and smiled as he said: "Good to see you Mr. Kenth. I heard you're in need of another pilot."
The older pilot nodded. "That's right. Frankly, I'm surprised to see you here."
"Well, I'm Mr. Persistent, I can tell you that."
Zane nodded again. "That's good, you're in."
"Uh, that's it? I'm part of the group?"
"Yeah, if you're willing to accept, here and now, that you're on a full time contract with us." Zane's voice grew authoritative. "When I say for you to do something, you do it. You'll travel with us wherever I say, eat at places I choose, and sleep when I say so."
"OK, I can do that."
Zane smiled. "Good, now get that hunk a` junk into the Lucky Prospector. We're going to the Hub."
* * *
Takato discovered the people of Zane's Roughriders were a colorful, if not undignified crew. They were also rather tough, but that was expected. Ruki, in particular, jeered him when he passed. Still, Takato managed to keep his temper under control, even though Ruki had adopted "Goggle Head." As Takato's nickname
The next day, the Roughriders were entering hyperspace to the Hub. During the two-day trip, Takato learned quickly about how to act towards whom.
Viktor Kurgan, his Soviet wingman, and he sat in the lounge late in the first day. "So, where you come from?"
"Mars, nice place but really quiet."
"Eh, I don` know anythin` `bout Mars. I'm a purebred Russia, born there and raised there." He took a long swig of beer. "Les` get one thing straight…" He had a tendency to roll his R's. "You're my wingman, so you follow my orders. I tell you to dance on star, you do it. You do good, you be boss, but it take long time to get better."
No reply from Takato.
"Whassa matta` with you?"
"I… I don't know. I have this weird feeling, that's all."
Ruki walked in at that point, apparently looking for something. She spotted her plain looking lighter on one of the tables, grabbed it, and began to leave. She turned her head, stared at Takato for a full second, then continued like nothing happened.
"I don't understand her." Takato said when he felt it was safe. "She's a total jerk to me."
"Eh, methinks she has a fondness for you."
"Are you kidding me?" Takato's reply was quick and immediate.
"Nah, I've heard all about it, women getting your attention by being bitch. Happened to me a few times."
"Don't you think she's a bit mature for that?"
"`Ey, look at Migs. He's forty-somethin`, thinks he's half that. Who knows, maybe it's time of month."
"Whatever." Takato rose and headed out. "I'm going to bed, night Viktor."
"Keep an eye open for Ruki, never know what woman will do at night." A high pitch wheeze filled the lounge before turning into slightly drunken laughter
* * *
Back in Sol, a meeting was taking place…
"While the economy crumbles, Maggin sits in his armchair. We can no longer put up with this." One man said.
"We all agree Mr. Vazquin. But you cannot sit in an armchair either. We will need to… take Maggin out of the picture if our plans are to succeed." Across the table, another man said.
"I can arrange that."
"Remember our deal Vazquin. You bring us in, we'll share the wealth."
"Agreed."
* * *
At noon the next day, the Roughriders were slapped in the face with a tragic event. So were the hearts of every pilot, and, hell, everyone in the galaxy.
Lunch on the Lucky Prospector was talkative, with a small TV on at the counter. Pixie always loved to watch the news, and if it weren't for her, all of the Roughriders wouldn't have heard the story right away. Undoubtedly, they'd learn about it hours later, but it felt better to get the report as it happened.
While everyone else noisily ate, Pixie leaned on her creaky elbows and watched the grainy images. All of a sudden, she put a wrinkled hand up. "Hey, hey quiet!" She turned the volume up, but still couldn't hear. "Hey!" Pixie managed to grab everyone's attention. Everyone in the room immediately quieted. So did Pixie's voice "Listen."
The voice a female news anchor prevailed in the lounge. "…are still determining how the famous pilot died, though signs point to a stroke. Jake Logan was out, enjoying some scenery in the Hub region, when traffic controllers received a panic signal from his ship. By the time they found him, Jake Logan was unconscious and died on the medical shuttle returning to Alpha Starbase. He was seventy-one years old. Let's take a look at the life of the man who won the Letzer Best Pilot of the Year Award five years in a row."
By now, everyone was crowded around the television. A man's voice replaced the woman's. "Jake Logan is accepted by many as the sole pilot who turned the tide for the Galspan/Bora war. Early in his life, he lived at New Osaka, Mars until he joined AGT. Jake Logan made minor headlines several times, saving ships, specifically, the shuttle Tally-Ho and pulling off amazing feats, but his biggest turning point in life was when he was falsely accused of crimes against humanity when the original Haley Research was under quarantine and was mysteriously destroyed. Being the only survivor, Jake Logan was accused, found guilty and exiled to the Hub.
"Logan was drawn into the Galspan/Bora war by the Job Boards. His first mission with Galspan was during the Independence Station takeover. Throughout the war, Jake continuously proved his worth over and over again. His accomplishments included single-handedly rescuing the Persephone, saving an important board of directors and stockholders from Bora assassins. [Ruki scoffed under her breath at that point.] finding the KC2 crystal used in the Hephaestus mining platform, braving the Twilight region's fog to investigate Dr. Cassitor's station, and intruding deep into Bora space to save Susan Bradley from her own people shortly after she defected and called for peace."
Pixie had tears dribbling down her aging cheeks, but did not sob or cry. There was little else for the news to say, but they continued anyway. No one was listening. Everyone was reflecting.
Zane and Ben shared similar faces of concentration; both hardly blinked. Migs put a hand on his forehead with a pained expression. Viktor mumbled something about "needing a drink." and Ruki lit a cigarette. They both apparently needed a shock absorber. Mullen had a strained look on her face, like she heard the report through a wall. Takato grieved in the back of the room. His idol was dead.
It seemed odd that Jake Logan simply passed away. Takato's mind couldn't accept the change right away. It's all a lie Takato, don't worry. Jake is still alive, and you still have the chance to meet him.
Shut up dude. You're in denial.
Yeah, but it makes me feel better.
"After the war had settled down, Jake was allowed back into Sol, where he purchased a modest house in a secluded spot on Mars. He often ventured out to give interviews and go sightseeing. In his will, Jake asked to be buried at the Cooper orbital graveyard, and his money be donated to the Children in Need fund. Funeral arrangements are already being made."
"Zane, we'll see it, right?" Takato asked. "We have to see Jake's funeral. We all loved him."
"We'll grab a seat, if we can." Zane replied, but was obviously distracted.
Pixie buried her face into her hands. "He… was such a nice man."
The news topic finally shifted to the economy's continuous plummet. "Meanwhile, stocks continue to fall, jobs are cut and the value of the credit is at it's lowest in ten years. Market forecasters warn that a severe depression is imminent, perhaps as early as mid-September. The President of the Sol government has this to say."
The thin reedy voice of Greg Maggin, tinny because of the recording, tried to calm the fears of the people. "We are doing everything we can to stimulate the economy. The recent increase of pirate activity has caused many companies to be in the red. Often, unemployed workers are forced to make ends meet, and turn to piracy."
"Recent polls show Maggin's popularity is at an all-time low. The upcoming elections show little competition, but it is expected less than a quarter of eligible voters will turn out."
Pixie shut off the TV.
A quiet, stony moment fell over the Roughriders. Fortunately, an alarm broke the silence. "We're almost in the Hub. You all got your jobs?"
There was a morose round of confirmations. Everyone in the Roughriders had to pull their weight.
"Good. Look sharp people."