Novels2Search

C4. Breakup

It had been two years since Yating became a part of the team. Things had gone as smoothly as possible. I would even claim that the team harmony became more fluid. With Juno, none of us conversed a lot. We simply went on about our business. With Yating, we became like a group of good friends. We chatted a lot during mining and, even during off duty periods, we gathered together often to hang out. With her being the only female member, she basically became glue that held us together. Yes, Juno was also a female but she never really acted the part with her really beefy appearance. Yating was a real female so to speak. She acted like one and looked like one.

And, after our latest mining run, we finally had enough funds to go ahead with installing two turrets on the Old lady. Our mod plan was simple. The Old Lady had two large protective plates on each side. Those were useful in a scenario where the ship would have to venture through a densely packed asteroid belt. However, in combat situations, they were redundant. Therefore, they'd be taken off and be replaced with a pair of frigate class turrets.

image [https://imagizer.imageshack.com/img924/8701/LVdRIB.png]

"This kind of mod wouldn't be allowed in the legal territory," A dockyard worker told us. "Only in Rocksea. It’s not legal to turn a civilian vessel into a combat one." This also meant we would be caught if the navy caught us and inspected the ship, but the chance was relatively low. In fact, Rabinovich pretty much gave his word that no one would bother to inspect the ship as long as we didn’t stand out. We also worked alongside the docking bay workers at Oreo to keep labor cost down.

And, 44 days later, the Old Lady was ready.

"Lo and behold," Santino said in excitement in front of the now-finished Old Lady with his arms spread out widely.

image [https://imagizer.imageshack.com/img924/2995/dYHoWu.png]

The Old Lady was no longer a mining frigate. With two large turrets, it was capable of shooting down Badger class frigates with just a few well-aimed shots. We had two choices in its turret. It was either a weak but fast-tracking turret or a big gun with slow-tracking. Since it was obvious that we would be fighting against small-time pirates, we chose the former, a fast-tracking but low-powered laser turret.

Then it was time to visit Ehka at Duchess' boobs.

Once arrived, I informed her of the ship modifications and our desire of turning full time cargo runners. She took a good look at our mods, and the first thing she asked was -

"Two turrets, automated?"

"Yes," I replied.

"I strongly suggest adding at least one more turret that is manned or have one of your turrets unautomated. If you use only automated turrets, they can figure that out and use tricks to avoid being shot. If you add a human element though, things get a lot more complicated."

According to her, while a manned turret may lack accuracy, the human element added unknowns. For example, an automated turret will attempt to track its target. But a human controlled turret may predict a target’s path and just shoot at a certain spot instead. He may be wrong in his prediction, but that gave the opponent less room to avoid automated turrets.

"We don't have any money on us right now. We need to do a job, fast," I told her. “We are on the verge of bankruptcy right now.”

The rest of us, standing behind me, nodded weakly. We had basically given up on mining and had to do a job fast to get us going. And our entire hope was resting on Ehka quite frankly. Perhaps realizing this, she quietly nodded along and took a deep breath.

"I get the picture," She told us eventually after a short moment. "There are plenty of jobs actually. It's just that I want to make sure that they get done, for my reputation. A good reputation means more jobs. I think we can all agree on that, yeah?"

We nodded along and she continued.

"I will give you a job but your ship is not ready for the fat ones. You have neither combat experience nor a ship capable of doing decent combat."

“But the Old Lady is a frigate,” I retorted. I felt that she could take a dozen badgers since it had shields.

“A frigate may be, but it is just a single ship. I strongly recommend you to have at least two badgers in its docking bay when the money allows. A group of ten badgers will be enough to take her down. You will want your own escorts to divert fire.”

It meant that we’d need fighter pilots as well, which meant that wages might need to be paid for them. I glanced back at Rabinovich who was already rubbing the bridge of his nose. None of us had any experience in piloting fighters. We’d need to hire more people, meaning more expanses. It was at this point that I felt that perhaps Juno had a point. Life was certainly easy with the original four of us.

“I will take your words. Just give us a job to start please,” I pleaded.

“Sending it now. Read over the details.”

Our first job was really quite simple: We would be given four 10-ton cargo crates and haul them over to the Station Beta which was located in the outskirts of Rocksea. Like before, the content of the cargo was unknown. He had never been to the Station Beta before, but doing a quick calculation with the navigation revealed that it’d take 12 days. For a round trip and whatnot, it’d take roughly a month. It felt like a mining job except now we wouldn’t be watching a rock breaking apart. Scrolling down, I saw the pay.

“... 12,000c?” I blurted, feeling dumbfounded.

“12k? Are you joking with me here?!” Santino raised his voice. At 12k and the time it took, we could just mine and receive a similar result. At least, the math was far easier. We’d get 3k each which was far less than what we’d get from mining.

“This is a very low end job,” Ehka explained. “I cannot give you something better. The higher the cargo value, the more likely that you will encounter pirates and the bigger group you will encounter. A lone frigate is asking to be destroyed.”

Rabinovich clicked his tongue upon hearing her explanation while Santino was fuming visibly. Yating seemed content, either way. After all, she wasn’t here for money. She couldn’t care less probably. As for me, I felt dull, like after having a massive headache. The grass isn't greener on the other side.

“Well, it’s not like we have an option,” Rabinovich said. “It's not much but it’s money. We’ve got bills to pay.”

That much was true. I was very glad that the Old Lady was fully paid off at this point. Otherwise, we would have had trouble making the loan payment. Either way, the bottom line was that money was money, and we had to accept it. Three thousand credits wasn’t enough for any of us, but it was better than nothing at the moment.

“That woman conned us!” Santino barked after we accepted the job and the communication was terminated. “We are her slaves now. She sweetened us by giving us a sweet job first and now we can’t really back out!”

I felt that he was going overboard but did feel that he had a point. We could not back out even if we wanted to because of the investment. It wasn’t as if we could get a refund and go back to mining. The modification was highly illegal, and it was a special order. We were explicitly told that it was non-refundable, which was perfectly justified.

“Let’s just get this one done,” Rabinovich told us. “We need money in any shape and form.”

I had nothing in my savings account. Well, nothing wasn’t true, but my savings were down to just three digits. We, three, poured all of our personal funds into the modification. The money was pitiful, but it would get us going for the time being. Truthfully, anything was better at the very moment. Everytime we docked anywhere, there was a small charge. During mining at the station Oreo, this fee was waived since we were pretty much working for them. This was not the case at the Duchess’ boobs. We had the money to pay for one docking and that was spent. We were literally penniless at the moment. This fee wasn’t a meaningless one because every time a ship docked, the dockyard office would make sure that chemicals used to create oxygen would be replenished. The same for water also.

Sighing my lungs out, I told my mates, “Let’s just do this.” I felt defeated. Either way, we departed soon after receiving the crates. We scanned the cargo crates out of curiosity, and they were found to be engineered wood which was mostly used for luxurious interior designs. They weren’t worth much, and the four crates had a total value of 120,000c, which meant that our pay was exactly 1% of the total value.

“So, it looks like 1% is the normal commission for hauling. Am I right?” I said to myself in my room. Santino and Juno were on the bridge. Rabinovich and I were off duty. It was very likely that the two were going to fool around a bit on the bridge. Someone had to be present on the bridge due to the risk of being hit by pirates. Folding my arms, I floated around in my room idly.

“Mining is better at this point, objectively speaking,” I mumbled with furrowed eyebrows. “But it is a dead end job. Yes, it is better at the moment, but mining income is always the same. It neither increases nor decreases significantly.”

After a moment of silence, I continued, “Hauling will be better if I stick to this. Hire some pilots, loan some badgers…”

However, he realized that, in order to make it happen, it would need some capital in the bank. Once we arrived at our destination without an incident, we made a call to Ehka to inform that the job was done. The payment was deposited into our account shortly after. 12k was nowhere enough to satisfy our needs, but it’d get us going for the time being. And, like that, our lives as haulers began. For better or worse, our lives didn’t change much. Instead of watching rocks fall apart and scoop them up, we set up a preliminary alarm system for any approaching objects. Interestingly, it would be almost 300 days before we'd run into the first battle. The job was nothing out of the ordinary. The Old lady was a part of a convoy and was acting as a rear guard as well as hauling some stuff in addition. There were three Akabasa I and four badger escorts. Cargo was just miscellaneous stuff and was really low value. We didn't expect any troubles. Then -

"10 signatures detected, 10 Badgers!" Yating alerted all of us. We were really slacking, so it took us a few minutes to gather at the bridge.

"Pirates? Why? We haven't got anything of value?!" I heard Santio utter just as I rushed into the bridge.

"I don't know. But they are here, approaching fast. ETA is less than 60 seconds!"

Rabinovich entered. He wasn't wearing his top and was half-naked. "Pirates? For real?" He inquired.

The convoy didn't really have a leader, but the Old Lady was the most powerful ship, not to mention a fact that it was a rear guard. Therefore, naturally, we took charge of the situation.

Rabinovich activated a private channel to the convoy and told them, "Akabasas, stay behind nearby rocks. You guys don't have shields. Badgers form a formation around the Old lady."

It was a reasonable request for survival. While the Akabasas obeyed, the badgers did not.

"Who made you the leader?" One of the Badgers talked back.

"This is not the time for this!" He barked but had no effect. The four Badgers just charged in against the pirates, and two of them were pretty much instantly trashed as soon as dog fights began. The other two started to flee.

"God damn it!" I blurted out of frustration. If the four Badgers used the Old lady as a point of defense, it would have worked out so much better. Now it was just the Old lady against ten Badgers.

"What do we do?" Yating asked us. We could still flee at this point after dropping the cargo.

"We ain't running," I told her. "If we run, we will be done for. Activate the turrets and hug a rock."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Hugging an asteroid would provide us some protection, I felt. Neither Rabinovich nor Santio opposed my idea because quite frankly it was the only solution unless we were fleeing. The automated turret proved to be effective for a short moment before the badgers were dodging it completely. It was when I recalled Ehka's remarks on pilots being able to outsmart automated turrets. As soon as I realized that, I dashed to a nearby console and worked on taking control of one of the turrets. I didn't know how to control a turret but I felt it was better than missing every shot. Because it was the very first time I was taking control of a turret meant I was essentially clueless what to do. I simply controlled it like I would in games. The problem was controls or the lack thereof. Since it was never used in manual control, I simply had no idea how to effectively control it. All I could really do was awkwardly veer the turrets in random directions while letting it fire shots. The mates stared at me, swiping across a touch sensitive console awkwardly. None of them stopped me though. The automated turrets were missing all shots by the way. They probably couldn't blame me, given the fact that I was controlling the turret through a camera that wasn’t even providing proper line of sight. However, to my, or our, surprise, because I was controlling the turret so awkwardly, the attacking badgers lost some of their rhythm, and the turret landed a lucky shot on one of them. It was a critical hit, and the badger exploded pretty much instantly on the spot. Rabinovich and Santio cheered on while Yating let out a long relieved sigh. The lucky shot disturbed them and soon enough another badger was shot down by the automated turret.

"God, I suck," I uttered while fanatically sweeping across my control in an effort to control a turret.

"You suck in a good way!" Santio snickered in response. Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I did suck, and the lack of skill was helping somehow. The pirates didn’t expect me to be so bad that they had no clue how to respond to my fanatic aiming. With two of them suddenly gone, the pirates had to make a quick decision to press on or just bail out, and it didn't surprise us when we saw them bail out because our cargo was literal garbage. While garbage itself had zero value on its own, it was useful still in generating power via burning. Some stations had such a low population that they didn’t generate enough garbage on their own. In such cases, they had to import garbage.

"Why the fuck did they attack us to begin with?" Santino loudly complained. He had a point, given our cargo.

"Maybe, they were desperate," Yating replied.

"For what?!" he barked back but quickly apologized to her for raising his voice.

Rabinovich clapped his hands to gather attention. "Alright, guys, let's get this job done. Vazken, can I ask you to keep watch with the turret control."

I nodded at him. "Sure thing." It wasn't like I had anything better to do either way. The mates left the bridge and I was left alone. The rest of the journey was quiet and the job was successful. We were paid more since the badgers bailed out. Basically, we received their shares. Ehka congratulated us for surviving the first attack, telling us that not all of them would make it out alive.

Then we had a few days of rest and were given another hauling job. And this was where things started to veer off.

You see, we used to stay at Oreo when we were mining. The station Oero had virtually nothing. It was a tiny station that was pretty much dedicated to processing ore. It had a docking bay, an office to process invoices, and that was it. There was nothing to do at the station, and that was hiding faults in our members. Ever since we began to stay at the Duchess' boobs, initially Rabinovich stayed well away from the station itself. He stayed mostly on the ship during breaks. Eventually though, he started to visit the brothel as well as the bar. In fact, he began to turn up drunk or even really late. The first time, we let it go. After all, it was the first time. The second time he turned up drunk, we also let it go. The third time though, Santino had enough. As soon as he saw Rabinovich lazily flew into the bridge looking clearly drunk, he barked at him.

"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

To which Rabinovich replied indifferently, "What?"

"You are drunk, and it's not the first time."

I glanced at Yating. When our eyes met, I shrugged and so did she.

Rabinovich was rather calm in his voice. "Leave me the fuck alone, dude. It's not like we have to work right away. I will get some sleep and get sober."

To be utterly honest, he had a point. We had done nearly ten hauling jobs so far and we usually had nothing at all to do for the first several days. Still, that didn't excuse his recent behavior.

During the first few minutes, Rabinovich was relaxed and deflected a lot of barking from Santino. However, at one point, he began to get agitated from his continuous verbal attacks.

"Bugger off, dude!" He raised his voice, and the tension on the bridge shot up suddenly. Santino, realizing that he pushed him far enough, thankfully backed off. Both guys were fuming and growling but it didn't escalate further…, yet.

However, it didn't end there, which I kind of saw coming. Rabinovich's behavior continued to get progressively worse, even skipping out an entire job because he was too drunk to work. Yating seemed to have restrained Santino from going after him, but it was Rabinovich who dropped the bomb first after a while.

"I want out," He declared when we just got back from a hauling job. It was his second time skipping out the job. I did find it weird that he was sober this time. I guess he at least had the decency to do this while sober. Santio took a deep breath as he placed his hand on his waist. Yating was right next to him, silently observing so that he would not go too far. As for me, I stood idly. I mean, what was I supposed to do or say? In a corner of my mind, I realized that the group was done for.

"You know," Santino eventually replied. "Normally, I would ask why and would try to stop you, but I think we all foresaw this coming sooner or later." Then he looked at me and said, "Vazken, you agree, right?"

I nodded and told him, "Yeah."

We had a problem with settling the money. Basically, I did not have the money to pay Rabinovich's share. I used my savings to pay Juno's share a while back. Even Santino didn't have enough credit to pay him, either.

So, we had two options. One was to get a loan using the Old Lady as collateral. The other was selling the Old Lady all together. Either way would mean the end of the group although, with Juno and Rabinovich gone, I'd say the group was over. We weren’t that close to begin with, thus I wasn’t feeling particularly sad or anything. Besides, the group lasted 15 years-ish. It did good. Even a marriage doesn’t last that long nowadays. Rabinovich was fully aware he wasn’t going to be paid right away and left us alone.

"Two options," Santio told me as he gazed on a monitor to watch the docking bay. "One, we get a loan. Two, we sell the Old Lady. What's your take?"

I folded my arms and followed his gaze to the monitor. The docking bay at the Duchess' boobs was far larger and far busier. There were ships coming in and out as we discussed. I told him my earnest opinion which had been in my mind for a while.

"I think this team is done for," I said to him. "With Rabinovich gone, that's half of the original crew. Let us go our own ways."

His reaction was positive as if he also wanted to go on his own way. He nodded along as he patted my shoulder.

"I will be honest," He said to me. "I've also wanted to go my own way. Well, with Yating."

I sort of figured as much. He clearly wanted more private time with her, and our presence prevented that.

"So, selling the Old Lady then?" I said to him. The ship was already fully ours at this point. Sagging shoulders but looking clearly happy, he replied, "Yeah, I guess. It sucks that we are selling her as soon as she has become fully ours, but then, hey, it could have been worse."

I wasn't sure about that. To be honest, I didn't want to sell the Old Lady. I did feel that the team was done for though, so I didn’t disagree.

Once the decision was made, things progressed swiftly. The Old Lady was sold within days after it was put on the market. Santino was in charge and he told me something interesting.

"A tracker?" I raised my voice a bit when he told me that.

"Yeah, a tracker. Nothing bad. I understand that the Old Lady was your first proper vessel. So, I put a tracker on it. Here is the key."

He handed over a small data chip to me and continued, "This chip contains a tracking number for the Old Lady. If she is sold again, as long as the transaction is done legally on the market, you will be able to track who she was sold to and where, making it easy to track her down and buy her back if you want and can."

"Oh, wow, I didn't know such a thing existed."

"You need a broker license which I do."

I chuckled weakly. "Dude, you were a ship seller before?"

He waved me off. "Yeah, yeah."

A ship broker was a common job. In fact, its entry barrier was so low that it was a job for those who couldn't get a proper job. Even being a miner was perceived better than being a ship broker. Now, I didn’t panic or anything as the group broke apart because I realized that, the moment we let Juno go, this was going to happen sooner or later. In a way, I was probably prepared for the worst to come, and it did. Human intuition is a very interesting thing. I had no reasonable evidence that the group was going to break apart. It was just a gut feeling so to speak.

“Time to get my things off the ship, I suppose,” I said to myself as I lazily flew toward my room on the Old Lady.

After a few days, my share was transferred which stood at nearly 5 million credits. That was a lot of money but I wasn't going to get carried away. I was jobless after all. Shortly after, I paid a visit to Ehka and explained my situation to her, asking her for a job in the end.

I was in her office. There was a rather noticeable muffled loudness despite the room being sound proof. After all, it was located inside of the bar.

The room was rather lifeless with a simple aluminum desk. She was browsing the net while she listened to my woes.

"I see," She stoically replied once I was done explaining. "You lasted long enough, I suppose. Such groups never last long." She tapped on the desk which shot down a holographic screen floating about 30cm above. Crossing her legs, she rolled her chair to face me who was standing a short distance away from the desk. I had magnet boots on.

"So, you need a job. I have something in my mind," She said to me. "You are going to need some commitment though."

"Meaning?"

"This station always needs security enforcers. In fact, we are hiring, and you need a job. The issue is that you don't have a ship."

She recommended that I purchase a badger. She added, "You can certainly loan it but, in the long term, owning it saves money. And you can mod however you want if you own the ship."

A badger was a fighter class vessel. Compared to a more expensive SSS Robin, it was considered a low end ship. Regardless, badgers were really common in Rocksea. Pretty much every pirate used one after all. As far as I was aware, the hull itself cost only 400k top, brand new. But, once you add a better engine, better thrusters, guns, and whatnot, the overall cost shoots up. I wasn't sure how much it would exactly cost me in the end.

As if she read my mind, she told me, "Two and half mil."

"Pardon?"

"Two and half mil is what a fully geared badger costs. I am pretty sure you can afford that, given you had a share in that Lightwave mining frigate."

I could. That didn't mean I would though. I was hesitant because the job would involve combat. Call me a coward if you want but I value my life.

"Ehh, I am not so sure...."

"What are you going to do then? Back to mining?"

That certainly was an option. Would I go back, though? Unlikely. My group broke up precisely because they didn’t want to mine. I didn’t want to mine.

"Look, mining isn't bad. It's a steady income source, but you've been outside. I don't think you can do mining anymore. Mining is for those who don't know anything better."

I cast my eyes downwards and thought about what she said. She had a point. I didn't really feel like going back to mining.

"Time to get used to the tougher side of life, Vazken. It's the only way to climb the social ladder. While there is nothing wrong with trying to be safe, we live in Rocksea. Safety is a luxury."

Her statement made me realize again where I was living. I lived in Rocksea where pirates were rampant and there were no police at all. Yet, I’ve never felt that my life was under threat. Believe or not, amid the chaos that was Rocksea, there was order. I was the proof.

I nodded at her and told her, "I understand." But I sighed still. "I will do as you say. I reckon that you will hire me?"

"That's right. I like you. You are cool headed. Too many guys think being hot headed is the way to go, but nope. Being hot headed shortens one's life. Perhaps more importantly, you'd make a good security guard."

I was glad that she pointed out my positives. Regardless, I had to ask what I had to ask.

"Is it a full time job?"

She gave me a nod.

"May I see the contract details?"

There was a faint grin on her face. She activated her computer and a holographic popped up above her desk which, after a short moment, levitated its way to my eye level, displaying my contract details.

The contact looked weak initially.

"It says 3,000c for 90 days. Can't be true, can it?"

She replied, "It is correct. That is the basic salary. Look at bonuses and add-ons."

Each case I solve would grant me 500c per. If it was a bigger case, like a fight, the bonus was 1,000c for stopping it before it would get out of control.

A good behavior bonus was also present where I'd receive an additional payment of 1,000c if I wasn't caught in any troubles for 90 days.

She added as I read the contract, "If you do your job, it's easy to earn well over 10,000c per 90 days. If you slack though, it's 3,000c plus maybe 1,000c good behavior bonus for you."

It seemed clear that she had thought things through and came up with rather controversial contract terms. It was essentially an incentive contract that was designed to make people work. I wasn't planning to slack anyway, so I decided to see how it'd go.

"Any minimum contract term?"

"No, but you must complete the first 90 days at least. The loss is on you anyway since you'd be investing in a badger."

Fair enough.

"Fine, I accept." Having said so, using my index finger, I drew my signature at the bottom of the contract on the holographic screen which registered my signature.

"Welcome to the fold, Vazken."

A new chapter in my life, I suppose. As Santino said before, it could have been worse. I didn't expect the group to last forever but it collapsed in a way I didn’t expect. It was clear to me that Rabinovich had a lot of addiction issues. I’ve heard that some people simply cannot resist being addicted. He was apparently one of them. As someone who wasn’t addicted to substances, I failed to understand why it was hard to stay away from things that would make you act like a failure. Yes, alcohol makes you feel good, but was it something to sacrifice everything over? Pleasure, whether it was mental or physical, is entirely optional. It is optional because it is not required to live. In other words, luxury. When you take luxuries for granted, that’s when things start to turn for the worse. Well, whatever, I move on.

“Time to shop for a badger… Fuck me. I thought I’d never say that.”

Me being a badger pilot? Yeah, life is weird.