Bread and butter
Aug 4, 2015 15:36:56 GMT
Post by CMDR Shocklance (WT) on Aug 4, 2015 15:36:56 GMT
Illustrated version
I sat staring out the window of the station. Geez I was young. Dad had been in the black a couple months now and had saved enough up for a Cobra Mk1, back before it was called the Mk1. There it was, gliding past the guide mesh. Dad's ship! I ran through the port to the receiving gate area in time to meet him. I was so excited I crossed the security checkpoint without being cleared but thankfully the guards were pretty relaxed when it came to hyper little boys who hadn't seen their fathers for a while. He picked me up, hugged me and then walked us back to security. Mom was a little embarrassed but the guards gave us no mind beyond what they had to.
Documents had been submitted and triple checked long ago. We ate together, said our teary good-byes and headed for the ship. I think I was shaking a little when I saw her. Blue with black panels and some white trim. Angles that mirrored some of the stealth planes of the great transitional period in human history.
Gimbaled weapons that could target anything past your nose had not been invented. In those days, half the time we just slapped fixed hard-points every direction and just spun the ship hoping to hit the target. Even one facing backwards. His was no exception. Military grade pulse lasers left over from the corporate wars donned every side except the left. For sake of a little extra cash a mining beam was tacked there with rivets he installed himself.
AI on the ship was minimal in those days too. As dad led me to the boarding hatch, I felt her looking at me. A cold stare of an unblinking lens attached just above the beam emitter. I felt it looking but I knew I was safe. It never spoke. Things just worked a little too easily some times. Like when someone is pressing keys for you. After a while you don't even notice like you are doing it all with your mind. You just sort of take credit for it like the pharaohs took credit for the pyramids. Never lifting a finger to do the work but getting all the credit while the slaves were kept silent and buried within.
Yep, it was my first time off planet at age 7 in the family business of... everything. You name it, we did it. Stuff you would not believe happens when you are 7. Stuff you don't tell your mom in the calls home. Things that bore you to tears, things that bring you to tears. We did it all together. But that first trip... it was everything at once and so soon, maybe too soon, for a greenie like I was back then.
The hollow echo of my steps in the main chamber of the station felt distant as my new boots clinked along the gantry mesh leading up to the rear hatch of the "Joy Unspeakable". I felt tiny and could see space spinning beyond the mail-slot ahead in the distance. I looked down. It was hard trying to remember I was actually standing still in relation to my surroundings till I was right up to the door. Stepping in, I forgot all of that though.
The slight thud sound of my boot landing on the polymer liner layer of the ship reminded me of what a new car sounds like when you close the door. Combine that sound with the feeling of walking onto a beautiful yacht and knowing, this is mine! It wasn't huge but that feeling made it bigger in my mind. Stepping in cut the sounds outside to a whisper and I just had to explore.
I had my own room with rest-room, storage, and work area. It was situated beneath the heat exchange flaps so was always cool even while dad was scooping. Cargo bay was underneath us on the second floor and had it's own double airlock for the cargo scoop. Dual fuel scoop ports near the front on either side of each wing had tubes running to the main H-Fusion unit in front of the scoop. A couple service arms were swapping out the old ones which had burned out after hundreds of hours of use. A slight smell of ozone clung to that room and my head filled with the thought that a small part of an ancient, distant star had been here where I was. That beginning, I will never forget it. Turning my head slowly from right to left... taking it all in. My new home away from home.
We shipped out a couple hours later after loading the industrial computers I had worked on all summer after school. I was slated for a hefty cut of the profits to help pay for future schooling. I hadn't done much more than shine them up after dad refurbished them by hand, but I walked a little taller in front of the buyers when we finally got them to their destination the next day.
Takeoff was insane. I had only ever ridden in a couple air transports but this gave me tingles from my legs, and arms right up to my spine. I think dad was showing off a little and put us at a 45 degree full-burst thruster-only climb then arrested the climb with the upper thrusters sending us into a perfect glide right through the mail slot.
Most of the trip was what I would now call uneventful but at the time it was a flurry of learning and playing with the ship. I flew her on my first day out. I learned to work the ECM, system menus, navigation, calculate jump range, and plot courses. We happened across a rogue asteroid and he flew us up next to her and matched speed. He let me mine her and chase down the fragment that flew off. I wear a chip of it around my neck today. He keeps one next to his desk back home now.
The first time we jumped in front of a star and the polarized filtering kicked in I screamed like I was going to fall in. Dad just laughed. He told me, in the way only dad could, that everybody does that the first time. Like wetting your pants on stage is just part of life. If everyone in the galaxy thought like him there would be no malice or hate.
He took us in for a scoop, though we already were still nearly topped off just so I could get a feel for it. The sounds were incredible... from nothing but silence into a breathing almost musical whistling sound as we passed into the corona. The Sirens of the mythological deep couldn't compare. This was magic. The next star was mine to scoop. I'll just say we survived with minimal damage to the paint job.
Diso came into to view the next day and the sale went fine. The next purchase was the end of the fine for us. When I asked what it was, he just told me it was corn. Something about the guys he was paying didn't seem to be the corn-farmer types I was used to seeing. Still... it was dirt-cheap. What did I know? Dad was playing it cool in front of the customers and I was unaware how much effort that took. My first clue didn't come till he was at the controls for takeoff and wouldn't let me touch anything. Once we had jumped he let me know I was not to go below and inspect the cargo. I was to go nowhere but my cabin or the flight deck in fact. The explanation as to why came soon enough.
We set course for Pastara and he looked me in the eye as the computer took over for the hyperspace leg of the trip. He explained we had a debt to the Black Raid that needed paid and this was his last trip for them. The corn produced a narcotic dust that they used to subjugate their citizenry. The Black raid had said we would be paid enough to upgrade the ship for a newer model and take care of ourselves for a long time with the money from this deal. My dad didn't buy their pitch for a second but knew he had to play his role perfectly to get us out of this mess. For that he would need an extra set of hands that they wouldn't think twice about. My hands.
I was scared to death. They were not morally bankrupt exactly, I mean, they took care of their own and even helped some people, but they had never been known for being predictable with their promises or their deals.
Dad was putting some of this on me? This hinted of desperation. Not something I had ever seen from my father. I was a good boy, I did what he asked. I was to man a tactical panel and mainly employ ECM and Chaff at his command while he controlled the helm. His plan was daring and dangerous.
On approach to the station we shut down all the systems except for engines and the FSD. I have never been so cold in my life. He had our vacc suits turned up to maximum heat and I still could not feel my toes. He even vented the excess atmosphere to block our body heat from transmitting outside and we fell out of super-cruise. He turned off one engine and wobbled us closer as he hailed the station. I began toggling the flaps and powering on and off various systems to simulate power system failure.
My dad nodded at me and I double secured my straps. He slammed down the throttle to full power and yanked us into a tight spiral. The jump drive came online and I shut the heat panels tight against our hull. The speed of the heat build up was incredible. I went from freezing to sweating in 10 seconds. The effect from outside had to be spectacular. Blinding white hot light and orange fire erupted from our engines but our ship heat signature was gone. Dad dumped debris he had saved up from a cobra he had scrapped in an old mining dispute and turned off the flight assist as the last 6 seconds ticked off on the jump drive computer. Warning chimes were blaring and sparks flew from the console. With any luck they won't notice our wake and figure we imploded in a jump drive accident. 3... 2... 1... ... nothing?
Malfunction warnings crossed our consoles. Bigger pops and sparks flew! My dad's mouth opened and closed inside his suit but I couldn't hear him as the intercom system had blown. He switched many switches off and restored atmosphere. Loud hissing replaced the warning bells as systems died and Oxygen flowed back in. He quickly reached past me and re-opened the flaps which I had forgotten about. Temperatures dropped sharply and he killed all the engines this time. Now we were in real trouble. He ran a reboot on the ship and used the time to pace and come up with a plan B.
All systems were functional but damaged... so we had real damage in case anyone inspected our ship. If we ran now they would know we were up to no good, and mildly incompetent. Maybe we could play it all off as real and we heroically salvaged the situation and their cargo. But that would put us at square one with a debt we couldn't ever really pay. Dad did't want to pass that legacy off on me now that I was there. The debris? No idea how he would explain that. There was an awful lot of it...
The radio came to life just then and an angry voice demanded to know what was going on and if his cargo was still intact. Rendering assistance was not at the forefront of the speaker's mind. My dad responded with assurances that everything was now under control and his cargo needed inspection before he could be sure. Buying time obviously. We had everything strapped tight before attempting our little ruse. He sent me to the cargo bay to check, just in case. Everything had gone wrong. Better not leave anything to chance now. I put my helmet back on in case one of the containers had breached and went to check. Dad sat busy at his consoles.
By the time I returned he looked a little more pale. 3 ships had come out of the station to meet us. 2 Vultures and an Anaconda. They were not taking chances with their prize shipment. Running was out of his list of options... fighting too. Dad kept eyeing the comms display. Keying and sending over and over. Nothing came back but static and noise. Resigning himself to what was going to happen next he hugged me and then powered on the drives at 10%. He dumped extra oxygen into one of the lines to burn a little hotter. Effectively cleaning the buildup in the housing and trailing black smoke. This kept up the image that our engins were still having trouble. We limped along with our escort.
The Vultures flew next to our ship and the Anaconda trailed behind us. It felt like going to our own funeral. We neared the slot and the auto-dock began to wind up.
The comms boomed to life as a ship jumped in!
"Black raid vessels, you are to stand down in the name of Arissa Lavigny Duval. Her White Templars are here. We have evidence of corruption within the system and we demand you surrender your control immediately to the people!"
Dad's face snapped into an astonished grin. He furiously began to prep the ship for jump again. A long string of cursing and yelling erupted across the comms. Our escort turned to face the mysterious white Python approaching and began to close with her. 3 more Pythons dropped out behind her, followed by 2 cobras, a diamondback, Vulture and 2 Vipers all gleaming white. Dad brought the engines back to full and began the jump process. Now we had a legitimate reason to run without having to explain.
Red-hot beams erupted in front of us as dad swung us around to put the station behind us. The mass was so great that it was going to take a long time to be clear of it. The only way out was either through the firefight that had just lit up all space in front of us, or to squeeze out the side. Dad chose the latter.
The thud of the engines hit me right through the seat and I held on for dear life. The station defenses began to come online and we had to start dodging back and forth as huge guns swung out in front of us and let loose. All I could do was watch as we twisted to and fro. My stomach dropped to my knees and then shot up to my tonsils as the Anaconda swung wildly in front of us dodging one of the reinforced Pythons trying to ram.
Time slowed for me. The ship was rocking wildly. Stars and debris swirled past us, our screens flared as we plowed through. Stray shots hit us and bounced me against my straps. I held my breath, held on to my seat as much as I could manage and prayed as the warp indicator wound too slowly up. I let it out an a long cry as dad yelled for me to hold on.
Hyperspace opened before us and with a loud crack it was all over. The ship popped out of witch-space and came to a relative halt.
Dad had been holding his breath too and light out a long and loud sigh. We both slumped in the seat and looked at each other. Then the laughter came easily. We had lived! I asked dad who the Templars were. He had not heard much of them either but we both agreed we owed them one... a big one!
He ran diagnostics on the drive and put the results into the squawk list for the engineers at the next station. That old model cobra was not built for the extreme temperature changes we had put it through. Hence the dismal failure of an otherwise cunning plan. (At least, that's how we thought of it.) He put the ship through a few abbreviated pre-flight and post-flight checks and then we took a look at our navigational options.
We had barely plotted a course when an electronic hail came in. Text only: "Proceed to Zeta Horologii. Escort has been provided. Leave now!"
The collision alarm warbled to life! Dad barely grabbed the controls before a white Python "roared" over us, (through the the overhead environment simulation speakers). I couldn't help but duck as it passed over us. The ship actually shuddered under our feet. Then, it slowly spun and faced us. It was a cool, pearly white with red markings I couldn't make out. It didn't open its gunports nor make any move. Ping, ping... 2 more ships popped in, all white like the first, but battle scarred and pitted. These Templars were a thorough operation and avid fighters.
Dad punched in the course without saying a word and we began to jump. Always finding 3 blips close behind before making the next hop. On the final jump, only 2 blips fell in behind us and soon served as escort to one of the coolest locations for a port I had ever visited. We learned later that the Python had doubled back making sure that none of the surviving Black Raid had followed. They had been too decimated to risk another fight. They were no fools either.
Our destination began to grow on the screen and I found myself leaning forward the closer we got. I couldn't take it all in. May Port lay within the orbit of a yellow rocky world with many rings. Not just that, but within the close orbit within the innermost part of the innermost ring. The view was amazing as we approached. We spiraled gently into the range of the station passing half of the glittering disks and into the shadow of the planet. The station was massive and sprang shockingly close as the super-cruse engine cut off.
After receiving priority docking permission, we sat in silence as the auto-dock kicked in and began our final approach. The station was alive with activity. Ships from everywhere were docked here. Commercial traders, military vessels, Duval family liner ships, it had it all. As we touched down, I could see cargo reclamation teams pull close and await permission to access our hold. Dad sent me to my cabin and only recently filled me in on what happened next.
I sat staring out the window of the station. Geez I was young. Dad had been in the black a couple months now and had saved enough up for a Cobra Mk1, back before it was called the Mk1. There it was, gliding past the guide mesh. Dad's ship! I ran through the port to the receiving gate area in time to meet him. I was so excited I crossed the security checkpoint without being cleared but thankfully the guards were pretty relaxed when it came to hyper little boys who hadn't seen their fathers for a while. He picked me up, hugged me and then walked us back to security. Mom was a little embarrassed but the guards gave us no mind beyond what they had to.
Documents had been submitted and triple checked long ago. We ate together, said our teary good-byes and headed for the ship. I think I was shaking a little when I saw her. Blue with black panels and some white trim. Angles that mirrored some of the stealth planes of the great transitional period in human history.
Gimbaled weapons that could target anything past your nose had not been invented. In those days, half the time we just slapped fixed hard-points every direction and just spun the ship hoping to hit the target. Even one facing backwards. His was no exception. Military grade pulse lasers left over from the corporate wars donned every side except the left. For sake of a little extra cash a mining beam was tacked there with rivets he installed himself.
AI on the ship was minimal in those days too. As dad led me to the boarding hatch, I felt her looking at me. A cold stare of an unblinking lens attached just above the beam emitter. I felt it looking but I knew I was safe. It never spoke. Things just worked a little too easily some times. Like when someone is pressing keys for you. After a while you don't even notice like you are doing it all with your mind. You just sort of take credit for it like the pharaohs took credit for the pyramids. Never lifting a finger to do the work but getting all the credit while the slaves were kept silent and buried within.
Yep, it was my first time off planet at age 7 in the family business of... everything. You name it, we did it. Stuff you would not believe happens when you are 7. Stuff you don't tell your mom in the calls home. Things that bore you to tears, things that bring you to tears. We did it all together. But that first trip... it was everything at once and so soon, maybe too soon, for a greenie like I was back then.
The hollow echo of my steps in the main chamber of the station felt distant as my new boots clinked along the gantry mesh leading up to the rear hatch of the "Joy Unspeakable". I felt tiny and could see space spinning beyond the mail-slot ahead in the distance. I looked down. It was hard trying to remember I was actually standing still in relation to my surroundings till I was right up to the door. Stepping in, I forgot all of that though.
The slight thud sound of my boot landing on the polymer liner layer of the ship reminded me of what a new car sounds like when you close the door. Combine that sound with the feeling of walking onto a beautiful yacht and knowing, this is mine! It wasn't huge but that feeling made it bigger in my mind. Stepping in cut the sounds outside to a whisper and I just had to explore.
I had my own room with rest-room, storage, and work area. It was situated beneath the heat exchange flaps so was always cool even while dad was scooping. Cargo bay was underneath us on the second floor and had it's own double airlock for the cargo scoop. Dual fuel scoop ports near the front on either side of each wing had tubes running to the main H-Fusion unit in front of the scoop. A couple service arms were swapping out the old ones which had burned out after hundreds of hours of use. A slight smell of ozone clung to that room and my head filled with the thought that a small part of an ancient, distant star had been here where I was. That beginning, I will never forget it. Turning my head slowly from right to left... taking it all in. My new home away from home.
We shipped out a couple hours later after loading the industrial computers I had worked on all summer after school. I was slated for a hefty cut of the profits to help pay for future schooling. I hadn't done much more than shine them up after dad refurbished them by hand, but I walked a little taller in front of the buyers when we finally got them to their destination the next day.
Takeoff was insane. I had only ever ridden in a couple air transports but this gave me tingles from my legs, and arms right up to my spine. I think dad was showing off a little and put us at a 45 degree full-burst thruster-only climb then arrested the climb with the upper thrusters sending us into a perfect glide right through the mail slot.
Most of the trip was what I would now call uneventful but at the time it was a flurry of learning and playing with the ship. I flew her on my first day out. I learned to work the ECM, system menus, navigation, calculate jump range, and plot courses. We happened across a rogue asteroid and he flew us up next to her and matched speed. He let me mine her and chase down the fragment that flew off. I wear a chip of it around my neck today. He keeps one next to his desk back home now.
The first time we jumped in front of a star and the polarized filtering kicked in I screamed like I was going to fall in. Dad just laughed. He told me, in the way only dad could, that everybody does that the first time. Like wetting your pants on stage is just part of life. If everyone in the galaxy thought like him there would be no malice or hate.
He took us in for a scoop, though we already were still nearly topped off just so I could get a feel for it. The sounds were incredible... from nothing but silence into a breathing almost musical whistling sound as we passed into the corona. The Sirens of the mythological deep couldn't compare. This was magic. The next star was mine to scoop. I'll just say we survived with minimal damage to the paint job.
Diso came into to view the next day and the sale went fine. The next purchase was the end of the fine for us. When I asked what it was, he just told me it was corn. Something about the guys he was paying didn't seem to be the corn-farmer types I was used to seeing. Still... it was dirt-cheap. What did I know? Dad was playing it cool in front of the customers and I was unaware how much effort that took. My first clue didn't come till he was at the controls for takeoff and wouldn't let me touch anything. Once we had jumped he let me know I was not to go below and inspect the cargo. I was to go nowhere but my cabin or the flight deck in fact. The explanation as to why came soon enough.
We set course for Pastara and he looked me in the eye as the computer took over for the hyperspace leg of the trip. He explained we had a debt to the Black Raid that needed paid and this was his last trip for them. The corn produced a narcotic dust that they used to subjugate their citizenry. The Black raid had said we would be paid enough to upgrade the ship for a newer model and take care of ourselves for a long time with the money from this deal. My dad didn't buy their pitch for a second but knew he had to play his role perfectly to get us out of this mess. For that he would need an extra set of hands that they wouldn't think twice about. My hands.
I was scared to death. They were not morally bankrupt exactly, I mean, they took care of their own and even helped some people, but they had never been known for being predictable with their promises or their deals.
Dad was putting some of this on me? This hinted of desperation. Not something I had ever seen from my father. I was a good boy, I did what he asked. I was to man a tactical panel and mainly employ ECM and Chaff at his command while he controlled the helm. His plan was daring and dangerous.
On approach to the station we shut down all the systems except for engines and the FSD. I have never been so cold in my life. He had our vacc suits turned up to maximum heat and I still could not feel my toes. He even vented the excess atmosphere to block our body heat from transmitting outside and we fell out of super-cruise. He turned off one engine and wobbled us closer as he hailed the station. I began toggling the flaps and powering on and off various systems to simulate power system failure.
My dad nodded at me and I double secured my straps. He slammed down the throttle to full power and yanked us into a tight spiral. The jump drive came online and I shut the heat panels tight against our hull. The speed of the heat build up was incredible. I went from freezing to sweating in 10 seconds. The effect from outside had to be spectacular. Blinding white hot light and orange fire erupted from our engines but our ship heat signature was gone. Dad dumped debris he had saved up from a cobra he had scrapped in an old mining dispute and turned off the flight assist as the last 6 seconds ticked off on the jump drive computer. Warning chimes were blaring and sparks flew from the console. With any luck they won't notice our wake and figure we imploded in a jump drive accident. 3... 2... 1... ... nothing?
Malfunction warnings crossed our consoles. Bigger pops and sparks flew! My dad's mouth opened and closed inside his suit but I couldn't hear him as the intercom system had blown. He switched many switches off and restored atmosphere. Loud hissing replaced the warning bells as systems died and Oxygen flowed back in. He quickly reached past me and re-opened the flaps which I had forgotten about. Temperatures dropped sharply and he killed all the engines this time. Now we were in real trouble. He ran a reboot on the ship and used the time to pace and come up with a plan B.
All systems were functional but damaged... so we had real damage in case anyone inspected our ship. If we ran now they would know we were up to no good, and mildly incompetent. Maybe we could play it all off as real and we heroically salvaged the situation and their cargo. But that would put us at square one with a debt we couldn't ever really pay. Dad did't want to pass that legacy off on me now that I was there. The debris? No idea how he would explain that. There was an awful lot of it...
The radio came to life just then and an angry voice demanded to know what was going on and if his cargo was still intact. Rendering assistance was not at the forefront of the speaker's mind. My dad responded with assurances that everything was now under control and his cargo needed inspection before he could be sure. Buying time obviously. We had everything strapped tight before attempting our little ruse. He sent me to the cargo bay to check, just in case. Everything had gone wrong. Better not leave anything to chance now. I put my helmet back on in case one of the containers had breached and went to check. Dad sat busy at his consoles.
By the time I returned he looked a little more pale. 3 ships had come out of the station to meet us. 2 Vultures and an Anaconda. They were not taking chances with their prize shipment. Running was out of his list of options... fighting too. Dad kept eyeing the comms display. Keying and sending over and over. Nothing came back but static and noise. Resigning himself to what was going to happen next he hugged me and then powered on the drives at 10%. He dumped extra oxygen into one of the lines to burn a little hotter. Effectively cleaning the buildup in the housing and trailing black smoke. This kept up the image that our engins were still having trouble. We limped along with our escort.
The Vultures flew next to our ship and the Anaconda trailed behind us. It felt like going to our own funeral. We neared the slot and the auto-dock began to wind up.
The comms boomed to life as a ship jumped in!
"Black raid vessels, you are to stand down in the name of Arissa Lavigny Duval. Her White Templars are here. We have evidence of corruption within the system and we demand you surrender your control immediately to the people!"
Dad's face snapped into an astonished grin. He furiously began to prep the ship for jump again. A long string of cursing and yelling erupted across the comms. Our escort turned to face the mysterious white Python approaching and began to close with her. 3 more Pythons dropped out behind her, followed by 2 cobras, a diamondback, Vulture and 2 Vipers all gleaming white. Dad brought the engines back to full and began the jump process. Now we had a legitimate reason to run without having to explain.
Red-hot beams erupted in front of us as dad swung us around to put the station behind us. The mass was so great that it was going to take a long time to be clear of it. The only way out was either through the firefight that had just lit up all space in front of us, or to squeeze out the side. Dad chose the latter.
The thud of the engines hit me right through the seat and I held on for dear life. The station defenses began to come online and we had to start dodging back and forth as huge guns swung out in front of us and let loose. All I could do was watch as we twisted to and fro. My stomach dropped to my knees and then shot up to my tonsils as the Anaconda swung wildly in front of us dodging one of the reinforced Pythons trying to ram.
Time slowed for me. The ship was rocking wildly. Stars and debris swirled past us, our screens flared as we plowed through. Stray shots hit us and bounced me against my straps. I held my breath, held on to my seat as much as I could manage and prayed as the warp indicator wound too slowly up. I let it out an a long cry as dad yelled for me to hold on.
Hyperspace opened before us and with a loud crack it was all over. The ship popped out of witch-space and came to a relative halt.
Dad had been holding his breath too and light out a long and loud sigh. We both slumped in the seat and looked at each other. Then the laughter came easily. We had lived! I asked dad who the Templars were. He had not heard much of them either but we both agreed we owed them one... a big one!
He ran diagnostics on the drive and put the results into the squawk list for the engineers at the next station. That old model cobra was not built for the extreme temperature changes we had put it through. Hence the dismal failure of an otherwise cunning plan. (At least, that's how we thought of it.) He put the ship through a few abbreviated pre-flight and post-flight checks and then we took a look at our navigational options.
We had barely plotted a course when an electronic hail came in. Text only: "Proceed to Zeta Horologii. Escort has been provided. Leave now!"
The collision alarm warbled to life! Dad barely grabbed the controls before a white Python "roared" over us, (through the the overhead environment simulation speakers). I couldn't help but duck as it passed over us. The ship actually shuddered under our feet. Then, it slowly spun and faced us. It was a cool, pearly white with red markings I couldn't make out. It didn't open its gunports nor make any move. Ping, ping... 2 more ships popped in, all white like the first, but battle scarred and pitted. These Templars were a thorough operation and avid fighters.
Dad punched in the course without saying a word and we began to jump. Always finding 3 blips close behind before making the next hop. On the final jump, only 2 blips fell in behind us and soon served as escort to one of the coolest locations for a port I had ever visited. We learned later that the Python had doubled back making sure that none of the surviving Black Raid had followed. They had been too decimated to risk another fight. They were no fools either.
Our destination began to grow on the screen and I found myself leaning forward the closer we got. I couldn't take it all in. May Port lay within the orbit of a yellow rocky world with many rings. Not just that, but within the close orbit within the innermost part of the innermost ring. The view was amazing as we approached. We spiraled gently into the range of the station passing half of the glittering disks and into the shadow of the planet. The station was massive and sprang shockingly close as the super-cruse engine cut off.
After receiving priority docking permission, we sat in silence as the auto-dock kicked in and began our final approach. The station was alive with activity. Ships from everywhere were docked here. Commercial traders, military vessels, Duval family liner ships, it had it all. As we touched down, I could see cargo reclamation teams pull close and await permission to access our hold. Dad sent me to my cabin and only recently filled me in on what happened next.