9/8/2534
Hub Region
It didn't happen right away. Takato barely saw it coming, in fact. It started with a routine escort for a small sum of money. Five cargo ships needed escort through the Scrap Yards. The Roughriders were a little concerned but Zane assured them other ships had been going through the space junkyard lately, and there was no sign of pirates.
The mission was as quiet as any pilot would hope. At least, the first half of it.
"OK Mule, looks like we're done here." Zane said then swung his ship around.
"Thanks for the escort Roughriders." The pilot said amiably then lost all memory of Zane.
"C'mon guys, let's head back."
Through the scrap yards, the trouble started.
"Zane someone's here." Viktor informed his leader. Five ships were floating around with zero thrust.
"They might be pirates. Keep a steady thrust, fly casual."
A silent confirmation went through the Roughrider cockpits. In the other cockpits though…
"Jay, who does that look like to you?"
"Looks like seven random ships flying through the sector."
"Don't be stupid." Another man snapped. "He means, what squadron does that look like?"
"Let's see, there's an Orion, a Pegasus, a Cutlass, a Claymore, a Piranha, a Disutchee, and some kind of Demon Pirate wannabe."
"If you're done with ship 101, maybe you could take a stab at which squadron that is."
Jay thought hard, then a light bulb clicked on in his head. "Oh, it's the Roughriders!"
"Ding, ding! He wins the cigar!" One of the pilots said sarcastically. "You know what they did right?"
"They blew up some Redship pirates."
"Yeah and one of them was a friend of mine. I happen to be a pirate sympathizer myself, just never worked up the nerve to join." Let's jump `em for a little Reship revenge.
"You sure?" A female pilot asked. "They took down three dozen pirates and a platform in a pretty short time."
"But this time we have the advantage of surprise. C'mon, I'm sure the spirits of those pirates are begging us to do it."
Quiet laughter was the final confirmation, and the pirates took off after the Roughriders.
* * *
"Zane those ships were in attacking formation when we left." Takato said. "I think we should watch our…" Before he could finish, the rear sensor yelped an alarm.
"Roughriders, evasive maneuvers. Do not destroy any of those ships!" The head Roughrider was already hailing an emergency band. "Star Patrol this is Roughrider lead. Me and my squadron are under unprovoked attack."
Fortunately, several Star Patrol starships were parked in the giant hangar of Alpha Starbase. "Alright you guys, break it up."
Like young children in a schoolyard scuffle, the pirate loyalists ran off at the sight of authority.
"Everything alright there Roughriders?"
"Yes, we're fine. Thanks Star Patrol."
Takato suddenly understood what Zane had been talking about. They knew it was us. From the news, probably, or friends. Boy, I didn't think being popular had such a bad side. He remembered telling his parents about his dream, to make headline news. That dream was abruptly dumped.
* * *
During the next few days, relations began to worsen throughout the galaxy. Vazquis and his Congress were aggressively passing new, strict laws that inflated mega-corporations and crushed smaller ones. The ailing stock market was down to unheard of lows, and for the sixteenth day in a row, it closed down. Unemployment was uncontrollably high, and pirate activity was causing alarm.
The Fringe faired no better. Galspan's board of directors was piling up their money like sandbags before a flood. The Bora, who complained they were receiving little or no help from constant hijacking and theft, were growing impatient with Sol's lack of action. The extremists called for the Bora to, once again, hyperspace to another region as they had two and a half centuries ago. The most extreme of the extremists called for all out war for independence and control of the Hub.
The Frontier region, normally known for it's bright casinos and tourist spots, was having it's own woes. The Barons were in another feud, and this one looked like it would become a three-way death match. Hearing wind of this, tourists decided to visit relatives and friends instead of the slot machines. New Las Vegas and the Atlantic Casino, twin resorts that were once one of the highest grossing space stations ever, were now empty and dark.
Perhaps the only safe havens were the planets in the Solar system. But only the wealthy and well to do could live there. Mars was already becoming overcrowded, and Venus cost a fortune to live on. In the Ripstar region, the Hephaestus reigned supreme. Nearly invulnerable to all but the biggest attacks, and sporting huge cargo bays for crew and supplies, it was the only place one was ensured a bed and a meal. But only a lucky twenty thousand could be part of that.
Turmoil also bubbled among the Roughriders. When Sol passed a cargo-tax on all ships in the Hub, the people of Bora were outraged. Ruki and Migs among them. They distanced themselves from the other Roughriders. Galspan scowled as well when Sol began taking over sections of the Ripstar region long since claimed by Galspan. Viktor, who openly supported Galspan, also seemed to talk less and less to Migs and Ruki. Zane wasn't thrilled about that. Disunity is bad for the team. That's why it's a team for crying out loud.
* * *
9/12/2534
Alpha Starbase, Hub Region
Jake's Logan's funeral was a long parade throughout the five regions. Starting at Mars on Sol, then jumping to the Hub. After it rendezvoused with Alpha Starbase, the large corvette headed to Galspan, then to the Frontier, and to the Ripstar nebula. After careful consideration, Jake's family decided to skip the Twilight region, in fear that something would happen to him in that crazy, screwed-up nebula. Little did they know, something would happen to Jake.
Spectator ships lined up in rows like an aisle for the corvette, painted black for the occasion, to follow. The Roughriders were in the Lucky Prospector, watching from far away. A heavy, somber blanket covered the thousands of people that watched. Takato kept the tears in, but still his face in his hands every so often.
As the funeral corvette passed, painted matte black for the occasion, passed by. A large half cylinder display case housed the coffin. It was made of fine wood, and flowers and decorations were neatly arranged.
Only the best for Jake. Takato thought to himself, and smiled a bit. Humor slightly lifted the heavy, depressing covers.
The ship was within three kilometers of the Jumpgate to Sol, but something occurred that caused everyone in Sol to reel back in anger, despite lack of proof. If Jake's death had been a shocker, this one might've been a heart attack.
While the minister finished speaking holy words, a single ship, a Bora Warhammer going much faster than Takato thought it could, darted out, seemingly out of nowhere. Guard ships, which were on the alert and prepared for these kinds of things, jumped right on the situation. "Unidentified ship, you are in a No Fly zone, return to the allowed area or you'll be looking at some hefty fines."
The ship continued on as though the pilot's radio was turned off.
"Star Patrol, tow that thing in!" The same man ordered.
But the ship had gotten a long head start. The pilots in the funeral corvette shifted direction when it appeared the rogue ship was about to collide. The corvette wasn't made to be used in such a way, and the pilots panicked when the ship showed no sign of stopping.
But it did stop. It stopped hard, like it'd hit a wall. A green-white beam pulsed and spiraled out of the ship's belly.
"A tow beam?" Takato said aloud.
"When could they fit one of those in a Warhammer?" Migs added. Everyone in the cabin was watching patiently, like the whole scene was a movie.
The Warhammer shot off like a rocket, with a corvette nearly twice it's size under it, as fast as it had entered. Sol fighters finally got the impression this was a hijacking scheme, and burned after the thieving ship, but they didn't stand a chance against the Bora craft's impossibly fast speed.
Pixie turned on the TV. Live reports and babbling reporters were on every channel.
"A-Apparently, a ship, a Bora Warhammer according to our crew, blasted out from the crowd, latched onto the corvette, and flew away at speeds not normally attained for a Warhammer, even with afterburners."
Zane looked blankly out as more Sol fighters buzzed about like bees looking for their queen. "It would appear, Roughriders," Zane paused to lick his chapped lips. "That Jake Logan has been stolen."
* * *
Immediately, brawls broke out. At almost every place in civilized space, a Galspan got up and went over to a Bora, pointed out what the Bora had done to Jake, and accused the entire race of Bora. The Bora on the other hand, would nastily tell the Galspan to mind his own business. Usually a profanity would find it's way in there. And before you know it, fists were thrown, blasters fired, and people were injured or killed. All in all, several hundred people were killed this way within the first twenty-four hours of Jake's kidnapping. Mostly die-hard fanatics of one group or another, but the occasional innocent thrown in.
Everyone who had attended the funeral went home. What else could they do? Reports, again, swept through the news channels, and every E-newspaper was on the story at once. Within several minutes, a SPECIAL REPORT buzzed on every news website.
For the next day, Sol was running amok; trying to sift what was credible from what was bull crap. But then, an anonymous note, with absolutely no signature or fingerprints, turned up on the Commander Obulo's desk. It was relatively short, and was posted on the news that same hour. In its entirety, it read,
Dear Commander Obulo,
Jake is fine, so are the people from the ship, for the time being. To have them returned unharmed, evacuate all ships, but leave them empty and intact in the Ripstar region. You have one week from the time you receive this.
Have a nice day.
The order was of course, impossible to do. Talk shows and news channels discussed it with experts and the like, but they provided nothing but talk, and talk wasn't going to help get Jake back. But Galspan couldn't just leave.
So Sol tried to ID the message, but whoever had done this was an expert. There were no electronic fingerprints at all. Even so, coffee-fueled specialists did all they could.
To Takato, it seemed a nightmare had twisted and contorted into some reality hybrid. This all seemed like an elaborate story conjured up in an author's imagination, yet it was real as he was. For three days, violence between Galspan and Bora spread like wildfire. There was talk of rekindling the war between the rivals. But to match them up now would be like turning a very angry Chow-chow on a Chihuahua.
But that didn't seem to bother the Bora. They continually denied any involvement in the incident, stating it was a lone pilot, out to make a scene. They also threatened any attack on them would result in mobilization.
Wars were happening in the Roughriders as well on a miniscule scale. Ruki and Migs became increasingly distant. Viktor rarely spoke and never sat next to them. Ben supported neither side, and was becoming stuck in the rift between the two. Mullen of course did not take sides. For one thing, this didn't involve her people, and she always followed Zane's lead.
All these matters, like a snowball in a cartoon, rolled on and on until it grew into a tremendous boulder.
* * *
9/20/2534
Ripstar Region
One week from the date Obulo received the message, there was another massive blow to economy and chances to cool the heat between Galspan and Bora.
The Hephaestus, even after thirty years in space, was in top-notch condition, thanks to its remarkable flexibility with upgrades and additions. It was ten kilometers long, three kilometers wide, and generated enough power in one day to fuel all of Mars for a year. It efficiently found Ripstars, little glowing balls that housed an incredible amount of energy, and converted them into useful energy sources. Averaging fifty Ripstars a day, they had recently celebrated their 500,000th Ripstar. Some feared that eventually Galspan would exhaust the Ripstar supply and it'd be the Oil Crisis of 2013 all over again. But officials had assured the Ripstar Region's unique gases would form Ripstars at a constant rate for many years. So the Hephaestus continued its mission with no set retirement date. Though largely automated, the Hephaestus needed a big work force. 20,000 to be exact. Its crew, some, who'd been with the mining platform since it was first unveiled, faithfully watched over Galspan's brainchild.
On the day it was destroyed, it was 9:51 PM Sol Standard Time on the Hephaestus mining platform. Most of the day crew was asleep, while the night crew picked up where their comrades had left off. Residing in a lonely part of the Ripstar Region, it drifted to the next targeted Ripstar. Unaware, was the crew, they were being targeted themselves.
Long-range sensors detected something coming in several thousand kilometers away. A warning tone caught the attention of several officers.
"Something inbound through hyperspace." Said one.
"We're not scheduled for refueling or supplies, what is it?"
"It, uh… just split into two. Make that four, no, ten."
"Arm the lasers. This may turn ugly." Said the captain.
"Sir, the message Obulo received, it told us to abandon the Hephaestus. You don't think this is…"
"Stow that talk. We're not abandoning the Hephaestus."
"I have over forty ships inbound, still trying to hail them!"
Outside, dozens of holes between hyperspace and our dimension formed. Ships peeked out; lots of ships. What they were made everyone watching jaw-drop.
"Those are Bora ships!" Cried one person, alarmed.
"Are they crazy?"
"Maybe not. That fleet is nothing to sneeze at. Christ, where'd the Bora get so many?"
"They're hailing us."
"Put it on speaker mode."
A strange, monotone voice filled the bridge. "Attention Hephaestus, evacuate your ship or it will be destroyed." It sounded strange, tinny, fake almost.
"Bora craft, we're not about to just give you the Hephaestus." Off the radio, he said, "Send a signal to Galspan that we're under attack."
"Affirmative."
"Are they doing anything?"
"No, just releasing fighters. God, captain, what're we going to do?"
"Defend ourselves, that's what."
"I don't understand, why would the Bora attack?"
"Haven't you been listening to the news? Bora and Galspan are at each other's throats again."
"They're just… sitting there. I'm sending video footage, and Galspan says it has ships inbound. It makes no sense, why don't they attack?
"You should hope they don't. There's a lot out there."
"You're sure those are Bora ships?"
"They have Bora ships, they're sending Bora signals, I think that confirms it."
Finally, the tension was broken. "Incoming fire! Prepare to retaliate!" A veritable wall of rockets, missiles, and lasers assaulted the Hephaestus. In that one wave, the mining platform's port shields collapsed, completely useless. In the second wave, punctures were made like a sewing machine across the hull.
"They're cutting through the hull like it's paper!"
"How are they doing this!"
"Whatever it is, we have to retaliate! Open up main batteries! Fire at will!"
Lasers skewed with lasers, as the sector became a war zone. The Hephaestus, despite a moderate amount of damage, was still functional. It was built tough and rugged, with a healthy amount of laser batteries for such occasions like this.
Even so, the blips on the radar never seemed to shrink.
The Hephaestus was still feebly firing back when help arrived. Half of it's port section had been ripped away, and the mining platform's guts were tumbling into space. Galspan had summoned half of the fleet in the Ripstar Region to aid, but they had arrived too late. The Hephaestus didn't explode outward in a huge supernova. Instead, it's reactor combusted and ripped kilometer long sections of the ship's hull away. About five large portions, and countless smaller ones, drifted away. Some people were still on those sections, and a few were rescued within a day or two after the Hephaestus was destroyed. Still, when the toll came in, only a hundred or so had survived the offensive.
Before September 20th, the hostilities had been a kindling flame. Afterwards, it was a towering, hate-fueled inferno
* * *
9/20/2534
Alpha Starbase, Hub Region
"Oh my God! Look at this!" Takato said while channel surfing.
On the news, reports, once again, flooded into the stations. Even the most composed news reporters were shocked to hear the words. "The Hephaestus has been destroyed." Reported one news anchor. He was barely able to get it out. "Ap-p-parently, a fleet of Bora ships, and we're just getting confirmations of this, jumped in, attacked the mining platform and jumped out before help could arrive. We are getting live footage right now of the Hephaestus, or what was once the Hephaestus. Galspan stocks are already plummeting."
That did it for Viktor. He whipped around, facing Migs. "Look what your damned Bora buddies did! I'll bet every single one of the crew died!"
"Hey, shut up! It's not like I was behind a joystick there!"
Zane stepped in, preventing what might've been a nasty fight. "Both of you, cut it out."
"Why are you complaining? The corporate moneybags could just build another." Ruki muttered, obviously not trying to be quiet about it.
"Ruki, you're not helping!" Zane glared lasers at her.
Viktor and Migs continued watching each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Migs was the first to relax. He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned away. "Spanner trash ain't worth my time."
In an instant Viktor was scuffling with Migs. Migs popped a good one on Viktor, breaking his nose, before Zane and Ben yanked the two apart.
"Do I gotta send you two to your rooms? Act like adults for Christ's sake!"
Viktor's nose was bleeding a stream down to his chin. He was practically growling at Migs. When Zane let him go with a rough push (Zane was surprisingly strong for a man his size) he scowled at Migs before leaving the room.
Takato watched as Zane sat heavily on a seat. He suddenly looked very old and tired. He's trying to hold us together. Can you blame him? Takato wasn't one for taking sides. Wasn't it me that said "Those damn corporate idiots will sit and discuss but never act." On one hand, Galspan was a greedy corporation that was practically a small government. But the Bora were no saints themselves. They'd pulled some dirty tricks before, and had made a lot of trouble over the past couple of years. They seemed like an unregulated mob.
In time though, Takato would find he had no choice but to take sides.
* * *
9/21/2534
Alpha Starbase, Hub Region
Sitting in a restaurant, the Roughriders ate dinner. Many stares and glares were passed along the table. Viktor had gotten his nose treated, but he sounded like he had a cold.
Takato was afraid that Viktor would suddenly jump across the table and attack Migs. But he knew no such thing would happen, because Ruki had her blaster, loaded this time, at her side.
Late into the meal, Takato had barely touched his food. Pixie noticed this. "Hey, don't make us pay if you won't even eat."
"Huh? Oh, sorry. Haven't been feeling great lately."
Pixie stabbed a large piece of meat and put it on her plate. "More for me then."
Takato really didn't seem well. He was pale and felt like someone had turned up the heat quite a bit. Hope it wasn't the food. Now that he thought about it, his stomach was feeling fluttery and…
"Ugh, man, I gotta…" He said no more, only put a hand over his mouth and rushed to the restroom. His face was noticeably green as he lifted the seat and vomited what little food he had eaten. Takato paused for a minute, gagged and hacked another streamlet of half-digested food out before wiping his mouth and flushing. And just like that, he felt better. Probably was the food. Don't worry about it. Yet it did worry him. Getting sick out of the blue, then getting better a minute later… hasn't that happened before? His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the unmistakable whine of blaster fire and high pitched screams.
Takato burst out of the door and saw the table they were sitting at had flipped over to its side. A trio of singe marks had been made in the areas between gum wads.
Amid the screams, Takato heard, "Roughriders" and "kill".
Someone jumped and tackled the one who'd fired. Everything about the guy with the blaster said, "pirate".
Takato rushed over to the table, and was relieved to see everyone fine. "Takato, you certainly lucked out. The guy shot right where your head was." Ben said.
"Quick exit guys, we don't want to make a scene." Zane said, standing up and leading the way to the exit.
A minute after all seven had left, one waitress said to another, "Hey, they didn't pay."
"You know what? I don't even care."
* * *
9/21/2534
Lucky Prospector, Alpha Starbase, Hub Region
In the darkness of night, the Roughriders slept; unaware they were sticking their necks out, exposing themselves. A shadow in the corner watched and waited, deciding whether or not to continue. Pixie, comfortably resting, accidentally knocked the hatch switch, just as the shadow started to chicken out and go home. What luck! The shadow thought. It lurked to the freighter, looking behind its back every three seconds.
The shadow reached the hatch, and without so much as a creak, it was up in the Prospector. Now it met another problem. Which door is it? Which door is he behind? It sneaked along, looking for some kind of hint. But there was none, so the shadow decided to go to the last door on the right. It was the most logical place he would be.
Zane's door swished open. The noise seemed deafening n the utter silence, but Zane did not so much as stir. Now is the time. The shadow practically floated over to the bed. Zane was on his back, completely exposed. The shadow reached into its pocket, pulled out a flat, fifteen-centimeter case. With a spring, it doubled its length. The metal was nearly invisible in the pitch black. The handle and metal went up, held for a moment as the shadow summoned enough courage to do this.
Then it came down, and easily punctured Zane's chest. Instantly, he woke up, eyes bulging, and making weak gurgling sounds. The shadow would've kept it there until Zane stopped moving, but suddenly, it became top heavy and overbalanced, falling backwards and landing hard. Someone was on him, and punching him. It pushed the person off, suddenly very frightened. The shadow dashed out of the room, flew down the hatch, and kept running until it was out of the hangar. But no one followed it, because no one was awake except for Mullen and Zane, who would've chased down the shadow, except her captain had a knife sticking out of his chest.
It took a full three seconds before she could finally get out a scream. Migs came in first, followed quickly by Takato, Ben, Pixie, Ruki, and Viktor.
"Oh, God, I'm calling the emergency line." Pixie said then rushed out
The other Roughriders could only watch as Mullen hugged Zane and weeped into his shoulder.
A team arrived on site within minutes. They put Zane on a stretcher, and brought him to the hospital. In the Emergency Room, they managed to take the knife out, but Zane's condition was still serious.
That night, none of the Roughriders slept.
* * *
The next morning, every came in to see Zane. He was barely capable of talking. Tubes jutted out of his nostrils and multiple places in his body. A steady, slow beep, indicating his heart rate.
Mullen came in first, practically shoving past everyone else. She grabbed his hand, squeezed it tight. He gently squeezed back. "Who did it?" Mullen asked. "Who did this to you? I'll kill them."
Zane shook his head. "I couldn't see, I don't know."
"It was one of those pirates!" Mullen cried.
"Calm down Mullen." Zane mumbled. "Now I want you to listen, and listen good." I could be here for weeks, months even. I don't know if I'll fly again."
"No, no Zane, you have to!"
Zane shook his head. "Be strong Mullen, you can't cling to me forever."
Mullen sadly nodded, then left. Ben went in next, and they exchanged a few words. Ruki, Viktor, Migs, and Pixie all had similar situations.
When Takato went in, Zane was hacking and coughing. "Takato, the world's getting dark. I have to say something."
"What is it?"
Zane stopped constantly to take a labored breath. "Only once before has the lead Roughrider have to retire. It was… Ark, that was the first. I knew I was… going to bite the dust sooner or later. And I never found… the right guy to replace… me."
"Zane, hold on I'll buzz for a doctor."
"No!" Zane gripped Takato shirt, quite firmly for his condition. "I've picked a new… leader Takato. I want you… to carry… the… tradition." He lost his grip, and fell back, unconscious. The steady beep became a long monotone one.
"Zane! No!" Takato rammed the CALL button. "Get a doctor he's dying!"
Takato stood by Zane's side until some people arrived. They used some kind of defibrillator, and got his heart going again, but Zane didn't wake up.
Glumly, Takato joined the other Roughriders. He didn't know how to break it to them that he was the new captain, so he said nothing. "Let's go home." Someone muttered. They did.
* * *
9/22/2534
Alpha Starbase, Hub Region
Pixie pulled out the first slip of paper, opened it, and read off, "Ben." She pulled another out. This one read "Ruki." She continued to read off the slips of paper. The next five were "Takato", "Takato", "Mullen", "Viktor", and "Ruki."
"So it's a tie between me and the Goggle Head?" Ruki asked.
Pixie nodded.
"Whose idea was it to put this to a vote?"
"Ruki, look, we'll take another vote between you and Takato."
"No, enough of the voting. I'm going to be in charge got it?"
"You? You've only been here a month." Viktor said.
"She's better than you, Spanner." Migs retorted, talking between a cigarette. Its smell was better than the staleness of the air.
"Shut up." Viktor returned. "I think Mullen should be captain."
"Mullen doesn't look like she's ready to lead a squadron." Ben pointed out.
Mullen nodded in agreement. She had cold-shouldered everyone for the past day.
"Well what about Pixie?" Ben asked.
Pixie only barked a laugh.
"You trying to be humble over there or what Ben?" Migs asked.
"Me? Lead? Nah, I would get us all blown up."
Silence draped over the cabin for a moment, then Ruki said, "Fine if you guys can't choose among yourself, I'll take the job."
"Zane wanted me to lead." Takato said, so quietly, only Ruki heard him.
"What?" She asked hastily.
"When I was with Zane, he told me to carry the tradition." Takato sighed.
"No way! I'm better than you!" said Ruki.
"It's not about whose better in the cockpit." Ben said. "I trust Zane, and if he wants Takato as head, I'll follow his orders." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Not like he's any good or nothin`, I just follow Zane's word."
"To hell with that." This from Migs. "I ain't following the orders of some teenager."
With a bit more confidence, Takato said, "Zane put me in charge, you're signed on with him remember? You have to follow his orders."
"I can quit when I want." Migs reminded him. "And I will if you're going to lead."
Takato steadfastly stood his ground.
"Fine, I'm outta here." Migs crushed his cigarette, and headed out to his room.
"I'm going with him." Ruki said, and similarly exited.
"Down to five." Ben muttered.
"We can live with five." Takato headed to the door. "Guys, I want you to know, its may take me a long time to get used to this. The responsibilities, and all…" He looked down and sighed. "It may take me a long time."
Ben stood up. "I'm behind you on this Takato." He grinned behind his beard. "I'll try not to be a pain in the ass."
Takato returned the smile. It grew even wider as Viktor walked behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can count on me." He then burst into laughter. "Boy, that sounded stupid!"
Pixie flashed him a thumb's up, and a smirk confirming her acceptance.
"Mullen?" Takato asked expectantly.
The ex-demon pirate looked at him, her expression was rueful. She shook her head slowly. "I have to go for awhile." She said, then stood and headed for the door.
"Mullen wait," Takato grabbed her shoulder. "You're sure you want to leave?"
"I'll be back, just don't know when." She replied. And with that, she left.
"Well guys," Takato said, turning back to his squadron. "Welcome to Takato's Roughriders."