Breandan
03-07-2006, 05:12 PM
This is part of a larger work in progress, and yes I know it's short and incomplete as presented, but that's because the full segment takes up about twenty-three pages, and people's eyes would glaze over. Anyway, this is from the VERY rough draft, so bear that in mind.
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Prologue: Honour Among Thieves
"The Way of the Freetrader is that of independence. Not the fanatical independence and Libertarianism of the Free Systems Alliance, nor the independence of the anarchy found in the Illyrian System, but a true independence with a set of rules, regulations, and restriction that each Freetrader sets for themselves. We are all about profit, getting goods from point A to point B, to hell with whether anyone in point A wants them leaving or if anyone in point B wants them kept out. Since we are half-smuggler, half-merchantman, and we work for credits rather than empty nationalism or ethics, we cannot operate in anarchy and sometimes we have to bend or break laws for a profit. There is no honour among thieves, however, so rule number one for ANY Freetrader should be ’Watcheth Thine Own Ass!’” - ISNS documentary interview with Freetrader Derek “Dirk” Mitchell, 2316 CE
June 15th, 2318 CE
Sykion, Sixth Planet of the Agamemnon System,
Andali Confederation, 2,117 Light Years from Terra
Kalis took a long drag on the cigarette as she scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of her client. Overhead the twin suns Argos and Delos danced their intimate circle of death, orange Argos slowly drinking away the hydrogen lifeforce of the tiny blue Delos. Despite the thickness of Sykion’s atmosphere and the white shemaugh that she wore wrapped around her head, the radiation from the dueling stars beat down on her like a piercing rain.
“Damn it, Niklos,” She muttered as she tapped the multi-optics visor she wore, increasing its opacity to block out the glaring light, “Do not be late again!”
Taking a last drag off of the cigarette, she tossed the butt to the sands at her feet where the wind quickly picked it up and danced it about in a fit of dust-devils. Kalis glanced over her shoulder at the flatbed hovertruck silently floating under the camouflage netting. A primitive form of concealment, but the only satellites that would be scanning the uninteresting desert planet’s surface were prospectors’ birds looking for water and mineral deposits. The netting concealed her vehicle and it’s valuable, and recently stolen, cargo of Korelium, the only stable form of naturally-occurring exotic matter that was vital to faster-than-light travel.
Kalis wasn’t worried about satellites, she was more worried about flyovers by TAN ships, or worse, pirates. Since the conflict between the Terran Alliance of Nations and the Orion Empire began heating up, both military and law enforcement patrols had been pulled off of space lane patrolling to keep watch on the frontier, creating gaps that various scavengers and raiders had taken advantage of. If the authorities caught her, she would be looking at serious prison time. If the pirates caught her… Kalis shuddered at the thought and lit another cigarette.
She was on her third drag when she felt as much as heard the thrum of contragravity engines. She tensed for a moment until she recognized the vibration pattern that only the modified engines of Niklos’ ship could make. She turned to see a cloud of dust with a strange gap in the swirling sands move towards her rapidly.
“Five minutes late you bastard,” Kalis growled, “I oughta charge you for it, old man.”
Niklos had been her father’s best contact in the Andali Confederation for offloading illicit goods, and when he retired and turned his business over to her, Niklos had continued the same arrangements he had with her father. Not all of the fences and fixers were so willing to do business with a woman, much less one so young. Centuries after expanding from Earth, some factions of humanity still retained their antiquated and backwards ways. The chauvinism was par for the course, however, and Kalis had done well enough as a smuggler and Freetrader that her reputation outweighed her gender and youth. However, Niklos was still her favorite, almost an uncle to her. Almost.
With that last thought in mind, Kalis unsnapped the thumb-break on her thigh holster and powered up her Warhawk pulse pistol. Just in case the old man decides to make a profit through my loss, she thought. She tossed the cigarette and wrapped the shemaugh around her mouth and nose as Niklos’ ship decloaked and set down a few hundred feet away, sending out a blast of heated air and sand. The fading whine of the engines let her know it was safe to approach....
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Anyway, just plunking this little snippet here for the halibut :)
----------
Prologue: Honour Among Thieves
"The Way of the Freetrader is that of independence. Not the fanatical independence and Libertarianism of the Free Systems Alliance, nor the independence of the anarchy found in the Illyrian System, but a true independence with a set of rules, regulations, and restriction that each Freetrader sets for themselves. We are all about profit, getting goods from point A to point B, to hell with whether anyone in point A wants them leaving or if anyone in point B wants them kept out. Since we are half-smuggler, half-merchantman, and we work for credits rather than empty nationalism or ethics, we cannot operate in anarchy and sometimes we have to bend or break laws for a profit. There is no honour among thieves, however, so rule number one for ANY Freetrader should be ’Watcheth Thine Own Ass!’” - ISNS documentary interview with Freetrader Derek “Dirk” Mitchell, 2316 CE
June 15th, 2318 CE
Sykion, Sixth Planet of the Agamemnon System,
Andali Confederation, 2,117 Light Years from Terra
Kalis took a long drag on the cigarette as she scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of her client. Overhead the twin suns Argos and Delos danced their intimate circle of death, orange Argos slowly drinking away the hydrogen lifeforce of the tiny blue Delos. Despite the thickness of Sykion’s atmosphere and the white shemaugh that she wore wrapped around her head, the radiation from the dueling stars beat down on her like a piercing rain.
“Damn it, Niklos,” She muttered as she tapped the multi-optics visor she wore, increasing its opacity to block out the glaring light, “Do not be late again!”
Taking a last drag off of the cigarette, she tossed the butt to the sands at her feet where the wind quickly picked it up and danced it about in a fit of dust-devils. Kalis glanced over her shoulder at the flatbed hovertruck silently floating under the camouflage netting. A primitive form of concealment, but the only satellites that would be scanning the uninteresting desert planet’s surface were prospectors’ birds looking for water and mineral deposits. The netting concealed her vehicle and it’s valuable, and recently stolen, cargo of Korelium, the only stable form of naturally-occurring exotic matter that was vital to faster-than-light travel.
Kalis wasn’t worried about satellites, she was more worried about flyovers by TAN ships, or worse, pirates. Since the conflict between the Terran Alliance of Nations and the Orion Empire began heating up, both military and law enforcement patrols had been pulled off of space lane patrolling to keep watch on the frontier, creating gaps that various scavengers and raiders had taken advantage of. If the authorities caught her, she would be looking at serious prison time. If the pirates caught her… Kalis shuddered at the thought and lit another cigarette.
She was on her third drag when she felt as much as heard the thrum of contragravity engines. She tensed for a moment until she recognized the vibration pattern that only the modified engines of Niklos’ ship could make. She turned to see a cloud of dust with a strange gap in the swirling sands move towards her rapidly.
“Five minutes late you bastard,” Kalis growled, “I oughta charge you for it, old man.”
Niklos had been her father’s best contact in the Andali Confederation for offloading illicit goods, and when he retired and turned his business over to her, Niklos had continued the same arrangements he had with her father. Not all of the fences and fixers were so willing to do business with a woman, much less one so young. Centuries after expanding from Earth, some factions of humanity still retained their antiquated and backwards ways. The chauvinism was par for the course, however, and Kalis had done well enough as a smuggler and Freetrader that her reputation outweighed her gender and youth. However, Niklos was still her favorite, almost an uncle to her. Almost.
With that last thought in mind, Kalis unsnapped the thumb-break on her thigh holster and powered up her Warhawk pulse pistol. Just in case the old man decides to make a profit through my loss, she thought. She tossed the cigarette and wrapped the shemaugh around her mouth and nose as Niklos’ ship decloaked and set down a few hundred feet away, sending out a blast of heated air and sand. The fading whine of the engines let her know it was safe to approach....
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Anyway, just plunking this little snippet here for the halibut :)