Tuesday, 19 July 2011


With a brush and a bucket of hot soapy water Carmilla work tirelessly. The altar at which she stood has been used for a ritual, and had not been cleaned. It was her responsibility, her duty. As she cleaned the dried blood she smiled as she remembered the evening she had had recently.

To meet up with friends at The Skyhook, to drink and laugh and make merry. To eat and reminise and make new friends. Aaah Syn, I hope I took your mind off of the events of the past days. And Catlin, dear sweet Catlin, I hope we will see you again. The three of us together was such fun.. and reminded me of days gone by... with friends long gone.

She dropped the brush in the bucket and held her head in her hands. So many gone, shot down in flames or locked up or even just vanished. Some who just had had enough, couldn't take it anymore. Any of the shite. Even Ithiria had gone.

Looking down the corridor she sighed. Two guards were watching her, there were always guards watching her these days. Not just her, but the other slaves as well, so much had Peshars grown. And the Covenant. More of the faithful turned up every day, visitors and benefactors. Rebuilding in the shadows and the out of the way places. Here at least there was sanctuary. Here at least, there was solace.

Getting back to her feet she checked the altar and dried it with a heavy cloth and checked there was no blood anywhere. It was messy, too messy to have been a proper ritual. Another punishment. And for most it would have been, the presence of so much blood. Not for her, not for Carmilla. Blood was an ever present ally. Leaving the cleaning items in a hidden alcove she headed back to her quarters. Ever so often she had to stop and bow as a holder passed her by as if she was nothing. And yet, if she failed to bow, there would have been issues. At least her position as the alpha slave gave some..... aaaah hell, she mused. Shit is shit no matter how high it is piled.

The hot water of the showers refreshed her and the hot food she cooked invigorated her and sitting in the mess hall she pulled out her datatablet and started typing. A bemused look came across her face as she tried to send. Again she tried and it failed. She tapped into the comms.
"Central, do we have a communications blackout in effect?"
"Yes we do. If you have authorisation we can transmit. But you do not, sorry Carm, you are on the restricted list."
"Thanks Central, Carm out."
She scowled at her datatablet and poured herself a large cup of blue shade coffee. When she got back to her table she noticed her tablet flashing and tapped it. A frantic looking slave appeared on the screen.
"Carm... I'm in trouble. I need your help!"
"Calm down... what's wrong?"
"Its Max...."
"What's he done this time?"
The slave on the other end looked around and then whispered into the screen.
"He escaped."

Carm ran to the Hoarder and headed into the empty quarters and found the empty room and the frantic slave. Half of the room had been turned into a very large cage, the door was open.
"I was feeding him and he escaped, lashed me with his tail and ran."
"Max can't run that fast....."
"He can when I'm out cold. I'm sorry Carm, I thought I could handle him."
"Aaaah dont' worry. I'm only surprised he didn't eat you."
They walked down the ramp of the hoarder and called over the pilot and explained the situation. Carm scowled while he laughed.
"Look, all you have to do is get him out of here once we get him. I'm sure some of the ladies would want to use him as a handbag. Take him to Eystur, my men will be waiting."
The slave returned with a portable scanner and together they started searching.

Several hours later they stopped. Most of the accessible portions of the station had been scanned. Other areas they knew Max wouldn't have gone into being too cold.
"That just leaves the garden.... given the doors are shut he must have crawled in the access panels here and here. We can get to him from this set of panels inside the garden...."
She tapped the schematics and frowned. She didn't really want to go into the garden, or the Arboretum. For one it was sheer folly, a garden on a station that wasn't even properly patched up yet, but she hadn't just been overruled, she'd been kept out of the loop. Relana had acquiesced to the construction and just told her to make sure it didn't fail. If only they knew the fragile nature of the construction. Hopefully however, they were not in the garden.

Carmilla and the slave walked into the garden and noticed the required panels immediately and headed over to them. Between they they had removed three of them before the voice echoed all aroudn them.
"Carmilla, what are you doing in my garden?"
She turned around, cursing inside and walked over to her and bowed.
"General Maintenace Mistress. We are uh... tracing defective wiring.."
Mistress Vea looked her up and down and nodded.
"Very well, then. Carry on sharply."
"As you wish Mistress"
She ran over to the panel and looked inside. At the bottom of a conduit, with warm air circulating out past her she saw the tail of a lizard. Climbing in she looked around and squeezed the slaves arm.
"Keep a watch out. If I can get him out the way he came in I'll do it. If I have to bring him out this way they will notice and cause a fuss."
"They'll kill him... and you.. and me... this is far to risky!"
"Hold your tongue, Kai.... I'll be the one in trouble, not you. Remember who this lizard belongs to. You owe her fealty, remember."
"Yes... I remember. It's hard not to."
Carmilla smiled and slid down the conduit and came to rest behind the lizard, Max. Max was a five foot long Khanid Royal Blue, a rare and dangerous lizard found only in Khanid systems, and highly restricted. This one, was a special one, even by lizard standards. It's owner had an impressive pedigree. She held her hand by it's head and it's tongue flickered out. With a sigh she picked up the lizard and slung it over her shoulder as she had done hundreds of times before and climbed out into the garden. Kai fastened the panels back and they both started walking quickly towards the gate.

Vea looked up from her conversation with Yu ki and her smile dropped. She watched as the two slaves carried what looked like a large lizard between them.
"What the frell?"
"Is that thing dead?"
Carmilla turned to the two holders and shook her head as the lizard flicked its tongue into her ear.
"No... just stunned. It'll be back in it's cage by the time it wakes up."
She had not stopped moving when being questioned and started running to the door.
Vea looked after then with incredulous look on her face.
"Cage? We keep things like that on this station? For what frelling reason?"
But the slaves had gone, her anger at being ignored however had not.

Carmilla and Kai ran onto the Hoarder and together put the lizard back into it's cage. They walked over to the pilot who looked at the lizard with interest.
"Kai, stay with the lizard, at least until this blows over. Vee's going to be pissed and Rel isn't here to keep her in check. Not that she would that much, but it might save my life."
"I can't leave the station! They'll have me on the altar!"
"Kai! You serve a much more powerful holder. Ithiria. They can do nothing to you. I told you this when I brought you here. Trust me... and look after Max."

She watched the hoarder take off and depart the station. Poor Max, she would miss him. But needs must. And anyway, what she had seen in that conduit shouldn't have been there. She would go back there. One way or another to get the answers. With a sigh she tapped away at her datatablet as she headed to the medical bay. A soft scan first, these things needed to be remembered. Even if she didn't want to remember the look on the dessicated faces, or the bodies chained to the wall of the hidden chamber.

"Goddam Max, what have you uncovered."

Friday, 8 July 2011

Reflecting Darkness and Other Colours

This is Rocking Ricky, bringing you all the mad sounds of the moment and of the past in a stellarcast straight from the Great Wildlands. Broadcasting to you around the planet, around the system, around the region!
It's usually about this time that I like to look back on what has happened out here in the great black. Well, space is getting smaller as the DRF sweep the NC aside as if it wasn't there. Makes you wonder. But enough of that, here are the mellow tunes of Phantasy Phive and Tubular Chaos...

1st reflection

Carmilla D'morenta sat on the bench on the edge of the promentary of rock overlooking the great starport and seaport on the capital city of Lustrivek VI. The ocean rolled off into the distance, reminding her of happier times back at the Geisha House when she would sit and watch the waves for hours. A sebiestor sat next to her, clad in the garb of a city cleaner, a large broom in his hands as sat on the bench with her.
"I have done what I can. You are a brave one. Though I'm not sure your course of action is a wise one."
"It doesn't matter Spartacus. When she finds me, and she will she wont be civilised, I'll be dead and everything we have talked about will be gone."
"Then why did you seek me out?"
"Because you gave me hope. And because I think you can help me in some way."
"But you want to go back to her, to a slaver... why should I risk my own skin to help you?"
"I will fund you, your cause, your operations. You are just a person, but I can make you a capsuleer, and from there you can really fight back."
The sweeper scratched the burn scar on his face and nodded. It was a good proposition.
"But you will remember nothing of this, when she kills you."
Carmilla pulled a ring from her finger and gave it to him. He looked at it and turned it over, eyeing the inscription and the sigil. A guristas ring from a woman named Angelina.
"I will remember enough, and they wont' know that. They'll think I have my memories only from forty eight hours ago, that this little rebellion will be purged. Find me in a week, show me this ring and I'll know you are a friend. Go now, I can hear her approach."

The sweeper ran his hand over his face and stood up leaning on his broom and looked around. In the distance a woman was approaching. Gods, what hearing, are they gods that they can hear what I can only just see? He walked away from her and started to sweep again, ignoring everything that was around him. When he looked up again the woman was staring at him. He shivered and seeing she was khanid, bowed slightly to her.
"Can I be of service to you? Are you a vistor to our fair city?"
"Be quiet fool. I am seeking this woman, I was told she came this way."
She raised her hand and a 3d image of Carmilla was shown. He scratched his scar and pointed to the bench.
"There she be, my dear. At least, it looks like her."
He looked the woman in the face and burned her image into his mind before turning back to his sweeping and listening to her footsteps get further and further away.

Carmilla sat on the bench and closed her eyes, tears were streaming down her face and she raised her head to the sun. The footsteps were louder now and stopped behind her. Behind her eyelids all she saw was the brilliant white of the glare of the sun, then as the barrel of a weapon was thrust against her neck the white tinged red as she fell forward into an infinity of solitude

The sweeper closed his eyes at the sound of the gunshot and continued sweeping, hoping for her sake that she knew what she was doing.

I heard the other day that a slave rebelled, kidnapped her Mistress and dropped her in the starport of a Minmatar city. Brave girl I say, even braver Mistress though I'm loathe to say it. From what I heard she fought her way through the mob outside the ship and escaped long enough to kill the slave and get her ship back. You might say that Holders have no place in civilised society, but when one can do all that and get her ship back and get her revenge, you can't help but admire them. Here are the Demon Knives with Slice of Morphite Heart....

2nd Reflection

The pod drifted through space, it's beacon lights no longer flashing. A thin jet of propellant from the damaged engine section pushing the pod through the emptyness of the system. No signals could be heard from the pod, no navigational flashes. For all intents and purposes it seemed to be dead. A ghost ship.

Deep inside the pod, wrapped in the protective caress of the pod fluid Angelina, pirate and renegade slept. Placed in a state akin to a coma by the pod she dreamed as time and space became as one, a mysterious void to be crossed.

The dreams came. Memories blurring from one state to the next. Somehow she knew she was in danger, but deep down, she didn't care. So much had been done in the past, sins to atone for, crimes to be paid, pennances to be enacted.

She sat crosslegged, floating on a cloud. All around her other clouds containing memories. The strongest, her son and husband. A reason to fight, a reason to survive. A reason to live. Always these were at the forefront of her mind, so here in her dreams they kept her alive.

So easy it was to forget the ambush, the ship exploding, the pod damaged and fleeing.

One day someone would find the pod.

One day she would awaken....

One day....

Of course it's well known that I like to get out there and fly and shoot up hapless tourists. But the other day I watched someone do just that. It's quite enjoyable to sit back and watch a fight, the dance of the frigates, the lumbering of the battleships, the exchange of fire. Sometimes I wonder if those isk laden capsuleers know what they are missing out here in edge of civilisation where the only law is what we make it. Then again, they probably do and prefer the comfort of concord, the scammers of Jita and the gankers on the pipes. Their loss. Our gain. Here is another cold cup of quaffe from Parity Burn with Scream in the Vacuum...

3rd reflection

Victor Ballentyne leant against the edge of the pit and watched. The cheering and screaming that was coming from inside the pit was quieter than that around it. People from all walks of life were watching the fights, betting, gambling, indulging. He smiled as he watched his girls walking around, inticing customers, offering favours, hinting things that people liked. The fat man next to him cheered as the slaves in the arena fought, another one falling.
"Aaah Victor my friend, I am glad you brought me here. This indeed is sport!"
"You dont' have to tell me that. You have to enjoy it! Just think, we could use your warehouses across the region to put these fights on. No one gets hurt, no one that matters anyway. You get a hefty cut of the profits and I get to sell my merchandise to the customers.
"Aaaah, but why do I need you? I can set this up on my own!"
The fat man laughed and drank deeply from his glass before throwing it in the arena. The Native Freshfood pin on the lapel of his tailored suit indicated his allegiance, but he looked more caldari than matari.
"You see Victor, I have had this idea before. I can make it work, maybe better than you can."
"That my friend, is where you are wrong. You would have to find out who to bribe, which locations are the best for fighting, how best to make money out of the crowd. You need support, security and product. Slaves are ten a penny, even here in Heimatar if you know where to look. The food and drink, all costs and the drugs, all in high demand. I have all these."
The fat man mulled this over and looked at Victor, calculating and working on things in his mind.
"I want seventy percent of the profits."
"No. Fifty for short term, then it can rise to seventy once it's established."
"And why should I do this? Fifty percent is small fry for me. I dont get out of bed for less than a million...."
Victor removed his jacket and handed it to the fat man and looked into the arena. The last fight had finished and ten new slaves have been pushed in, a variety of weapons dropped on the floor. With a leap Victor was in the ring and picked up a heavy sword. He turned to the fat man and the quiet of the assembled crowd.
"Now you shall see some sport! Freedom to the slaves that kill me!"
The crowd was silent then roared. The Fat man looked around and noticed the fervour, the intensity and the passion here. This, spread across his warehouses. It was enough, and he mused as he watched Victor cut the leg off an amarri prisoner and stood on it's neck, Victor was mad enough to make things dificult if he was betrayed. Damn Serpentis.

It never fails to amaze me how much people overreact at Sansha and his band of lunatics. Every incursion they make has been defeated. Countless numbers of his followers have been slaughtered, their ships destroyed and salvaged. With the fervour people go at them it must look like we are the savages. I dont pretend to understand why what Sansha did was wrong, after all he's never harmed me, but I do wonder what would happen if the Blood Raiders woke up and did the same. Personally, I think they are more of a threat, but hey, I just sit here and play great tunes to liven up your days. Here is Helium Dreadnought with Twenty Four Hour Vigil.....

4th reflection

The cloning technician stood by the vat and waited. He had been paid well to keep this particular clone from awakening, but he was begining to think it wasn't nearly enough. Three hours over the time agreed and still the woman hadn't arrived. His neocom flashed and he checked it and breathed out a sigh of relief and headed for the door, opening it and letting the woman in. He had to admit to himself she looked a lot better in the flesh than over the comm channels. Turning he watched a block enter the doorway that turned out to be a large brutor who pushed him into the room and locked it.

Relana looked at her slave in the vat, anger in her eyes. She ran her gloved hand over the surface of the tube and looked in through the slightly murky liquid.
"When does it say she last had a scan?"
"Uuuh, according to recent records, her last scan was over two days ago, nearer three."
"Decant her. Do it now. Brute, help her when she gets out. If she doesn't remember her place, make her."
The brutor nodded and turned to the technician who scurried away.

The whiteness of solitude began to darken as she regained consciousness. Carmilla felt the tubes being withdrawn from her body and needles sliding into her veins, filling them with fluids. Her eyes opened and slowly her memories began to flood in. A heavy kind hand wiped the fluid from her and helped her to her feet, then slipped a collar around her neck. For a moment Brute could see the smile come to her face, then it froze as her eyes opened fully and she looked up.
"Brute? What happened? Where am I?"
"I don't know the details, but you are here now and I am with you. So don't struggle and make a scene....."
Her mind began working with the drugs in her system, memories flooding back. She had stolen Rel's Slicer and kidnapped Rel. For a day she had been free. Then... nothing. The cloning template had no more answers for her. Mortis! She had fired on Mortis and damaged his ship to stop him chasing her! Oh frack, she though.

She stretched and flexed her arms and looked around catching sight of her Mistress. Instint took over and she quickly moved over to her and knelt before her in a submissive pose.
"Mistress, please excuse my.... I mean...."
Rel looked down at her, the anger in her heart smouldering, but she restrained her urges. In her minds eye she saw herself beating this slave to a pulp for what she did. But it was obvious she didn't know.
"What is your place slave?"
"On my knees before you Mistress, ever your slave and loyal subject."
It was rote, but it was true. She reached down and grabbed Carm's chin and lifted her face to hers.
"Do you know why you are here?"
"No Mistress. All I remember is after updating my clone I was ordered to head over to the station at the behest of Mortis and then... nothing. I'm sorry Mistress, I do not know what happened."
"You were killed protecting me. You laid down your life so that I could live. Anti-slavers, foul Minmatar scum who deserve to be exterminated attacked us. You showed your loyalty slave. Aren't you proud of your sacrfice?"
Carmilla looked up at her. Relana held her chin, but in her minds eye all she saw was Ithiria. All Relana saw was the look of devotion in a slave she hadn't seen for a very long time. It struck a chord with her soul that hadn't been touched before. Her hand caressed Carmilla's face and her cold heart softened. This slave was different. Dangerous. But that look.... gods that look.
"Clean yourself up and attend me slave. I'll be at the Charmoise Hotel.
She turned on her heel and departed leaving Carmilla with Brute, wondering what the future would bring. Perhaps she had managed to tame this wild slave. Time would tell.

Carmilla wept as Brute held her. Biting her lip she refrained from screaming out the name on her lips. Oh yes, this is how revolutions are started. Brute reached into the bag on his back and pulled out her bag and opened it revealing her chains, a change of clothes and a sleeping puppy.
"I been looking after him for you Carm. Like I look after you."
She pickedup the puppy and held him, kissing his sleeping head.
"Thank you Brute. Come on, help me get ready....."

Well that is all we have time for tonight. Remember when you are out in Empire and you look around.... you can't shoot anyone. Concord doesn't like it. But by all means, entice them out to our area of space, tell them of the profits to make and the ores to mine. Then pop them and loot their wrecks. If it's not blue...a aah, you know the rest. This is Rocking Ricky signing off to the cool tunes of Road Rage and Scimitar Blues....

Thursday, 7 July 2011

Revolution, Rebellion and other words with R

Carmilla sat in the corridor, directly opposite a door behind which a woman was screaming in anger and pounding something heavy on it. She sat, a heavy revolver in her hands. Compared to most of the weapons she had used it intrigued her. The six chambers spun with a dislocated clicking sound and with a flick of the wrist she closed the chamber and pulled the trigger. Click. Taking one of the shells she threaded it into the chamber and spun the barrel again. Snapping it shut and pointing it at the door she pulled the trigger. Click. Idly she spun it again, then pointed it at her forehead. Click.

Strangely enough, the thought that she had a one in six chance of dying when she pulled the trigger didn't excite any real emotional responce. Not like before when she'd been forced to do it, holding a weapon similar against the foreheads of her friends. Back in the slaver pit on Serpentis Prime when dark men played dark games with the lives of slaves.


Things had come to a head. Rebellion had flashed in her, she had stolen her Mistresses property , fired upon the ship of a holder and damaged it. Kidnapped her Mistress, although this was accidental, incidental? Inevitable?

Mere months ago, such things would have been impossible. To do such against her, her, HER. But then things had changed. Her own life had changed so much, all that she knew cast aside and burned and discarded like a plaything.



To be cast aside, sold to another Mistress and then had her just walk away. She had screamed and pleaded, begged and cried as Ithiria had walked away. Much to the amusement of Relana. Held back by two guards Relana had laughed in her face, slapped her. In truth, the defiance to spit in her face had been wrong, and she had tasted just how much the two were different. Relana did not care about her slaves, revelled in their pain and were just property to them. Ithiria had cared, had loved. Loved so much she did the impossible, gave away her most precious and cherished slave. To appease them.

From such acts revolutions are born.....

Opening the chambers she pulled out the bullet, looked at it, then kissed it, the burgandy lipstick mark on the side of brass making her smile. She slipped the bullet back in, spun the chamber and flicked it shut while she stood up, her hand reaching out to thumb the exterior door lock.

48 hours earlier..... Pethar's Hope

The guards threw her down the ramp of the hoarder, her chains catching and sending her sprawling to the bottom. They laughed, not caring about the looks she gave them. Picking herself up she walked over to Brute and wrapped her arms around him, enjoying his concern when she pulled back her hood revealing the bruises and the black eye.
"You been getting yourself into trouble again, Carm? I warned you, she is not like other Mistresses you have had."
"I know Brute, and not a day goes by I didn't wish it was different. But as the gallentey say, live life before it fucks you dead."
The brutor laughed hard and slapped her on the back, her chains jingling from the force.
"I never heard any gallente say that, you dont half talk some rubbish."
"Carm? Is that you?"

They both turned aroudn and saw Sakura walking towards them. She grinned and met her friend with a strong hug and held her at arms length looking at the costume she wore.
"Hi Sak, still dressing in the dark I see?"
She scowled as she looked down at her clothing, which was mostly revealing and not very covering.
"Oh, this is his idea. A long story... like that black eye I assume? What happened?"
"Oh... I forgot I'm not with Ithiria anymore. It's taking some getting used to... not having the freedom I used to have."
They talked back and forth for a while. Carmilla warmed by having her friend there for her. Sakura went on for a while talking about the recent events and Carm linked arms with her.
"Come on, take me to Mort. I have to see him anyway."
She sensed the hesistation in Sak and ignored it. Aaah, what could go wrong she mused as she looked around the hangerbay.

She stamped her foot like a petualnt child. Mortis had been distracted by something, hadn't noticed her as she wished and had dismissed her, getting a guard to carry her away. She had tried to faint, in an alluring and sensual way so he would be interested. It was as if she hadn't been there. His concern for her wellbeing was such he ordered a guard to take her to the medical facility to check her out instead of carrying her there himself. He looked her over again, dismissed his slave harshly who was cowering in the corner of the room and returned to his quarters. Turning she noticed Sakura had gone and she was alone with the guard and pushed past him, stopping only long enough to pick up her few scant possessions and heading for the hanger bay.

There were four ships there. An imperial Slicer, a Cruor and an Ashimmu. And the ever present hulking form of the hoarder. The Slicer would do, a fast ship and deadly in her hands. With purpose she strode over to the ship and instructed a few of the technicians to remove the external lines and pipes. They did so without thought, good slaves she mused bitterly as she boarded and sealed the door. Once in the cockpit she sat down and started going through the systems, powering them up.
"This is flight control to Slicer. You are not cleared for launch, Carmilla."
She thumbed the comms as she continued her pre-flight checks.
"Uh that's okay control. I'm just following my Mistresses orders and tidying up."
Pulling out her datatablet and a few leads she forced open a panel and linked into the ship systems. The guristas hacking protocols soon burrowed their way past the ships defences and she input the revealed access codes. All the consoles lit up as she was granted access and began sealing all the doors within the ship and making sure the ship was empty except for her. A single life sign made her frown, but she ignored it.
"Flight control to Slicer. The doors will remain sealed. Do not power up engines unless we hear from Relana directly."
"Confirmed Control."

Strapping herself into the pilots chair she looked out of the cockpit window to Brut. She mouthed somethign to him and waved, smiling as she saw him nod and begin to move the crew he was with and the others in the area towards the nearest blast doors. Powering up the engines she rotated the slicer and pointed it at the doors, the pulse lasers fluidly targetting the doors and alligning.
"Control, open the doors."
"Slave, youa re not permitted to leave. You will power down now and...."
Her finger pressed the firing stud, the pulse lasers vaporising the hanger door. She watched the blow out and smiled in satisfaction as the atmosphere was prevented from leaving by the heavy shielding beyond the door. On one of the screen she noticed Mortis Rektharn run into the hanger bay moments before the pressure doors slammed shut. Damn, she mused. This could complicate things. Using all her skill she piloted the slicer out of the damaged doors and into space, powering up the engines as she set her course to the nearest celestial.

The slicer seemed to float above the gas giants rings and golden sunlight played over it's hull. Carm finished plotting the course she needed to take her back to Empire space when alarms began sounding. A cruor was on intercept course, fast! A voice came over the comms system, familiar, haunting.
"I'm taking you back slave."
"I'm not going back Mort. You'll have to kill me, and even then I'll be beyond your power, by the time you get to my clone station I'll be long gone."
As the slicer was brought up to speed the display flashed, warp disruption field detected. The other ship was coming in too fast, she'd never escape. She needed wits and cunning. Cycling the crystals in the pulse lasers she fired the afterburner and headed down to the gas giants rings. More sirens sounded, the central capacitor readings were becoming eratic and pulse fire was coming from the chasing ship. Her shields were good enough, her armour even better. But without cap, she was dead and the rings were still clicks away. She thumbed the comms.
"Mortis, I'll give you this one chance. Turn around now and I won't be forced to destroy you."
"Not going to happen slave. You'll be taken back for punishment. You need to be put in your place."

The capacitor flashed as it dropped into 1/4 empty and Carm cursed, flicking up the locked toggle and pushing the afterburner into overdrive, flying into the rings at speed. Almost immediately the shields failed as chunks of ice and rock impacted on them, the sound of metal screeching as they slammed into the hull. The pulse lasers on the slicer turned and began firing at the larger roids and ice shards sending fields of debris into the path of Mort's ship. Carm watched as the ship veered away, her cap slowly creeping up, being sapped now only by the burner and the armour repairer. The two ships jostled for position, carm's gunnery skills preventing Mort from getting closer as he tried to find a way through the gaps in the rings. Eventually she knew, he'd get the better of her, however....

Mortis watched as another gap approached in the belt and he headed for it, feinting towards the edge of the ring. With a gasp he watched as the slicer clipped one of the larger ice crystals and spun, slamming through and several more and coming to a limping halt. The afterburner spluttering and powering down, the ship starting to rotate erratically leaking fluids that flash froze into a crystalline trail. He noticed that the automatic distress signal was broadcasting. Carefully he maneauvered his ship so he could see into the cockpit window. There, he grinned, slumped against the chair restraints was Carmilla. She looked unconscious and a quick scan revealed fading life signs. Throwing a magnetic grapple out to the ship he thought for a moment and scanned the sub systems. Frowning he noticed the after burner seemed to be working perfectly, the armour all repaired and no sign of damage. He looked up and noticed Carmilla looking at him just as the grapple locked onto her ship.

Hearing the sound of the grapple on the hull she flipped the switches quickly and powered up the afterburner, pushing the ship to it's limits, shooting past Morts ships and dragging it behind her towards the nearest cluster of asteroids and crystals. She slipped through and felt the wrench as the grapple was pulled off as the cruor impacted the roids. Orbitting the roids she targetted the cruors engines and fired at point blank.
"Mort. I told you. I'm not going back. I'm also not going to kill you, help will be here shortly."
"I'll hunt you down. Slave, you are a dead woman."
"Mort...." she brought the ship as close as she could, looking at Mort though the windows, watching as he manipulated controlls frantically.
"Mort... I was dead the moment Ithiria gave me away. Goodbye Mort."
Keying one of the systems she dropped a univeral distress beacon and headed to the nearest gate, not bothering to look behind her.

24 hours earlier - Marak Mining Station

Carmilla sat across the chair in the quarters she had taken over, music was playing from the terminal and a cold can of quaffee was in her hand. Her free hand was scratching behind the ear of the puppy that sat in her lap. The music drowned out the sounds that were coming from just down the hall. There was regret in her eyes now, once she learned who was in the sealed quarters. She hadn't quite believed it when she had used the security camera to check. Relana. Relana was in there, sealed in and angry.

This was somethign she hadn't expected, she wasn't supposed to be there. Trust her to ruin everything! The puppy rolled over and she turned her attentions to it's belly.

"This changes everything ghost. Once again I'm screwed no matter what I do. I let her out, she'll kick shit out of me. I leave her in there, once she breaks out.. she'll kick shit out of me. I can't kill her, I can't reason with her."
She toyed with one of it's paws and smiled.
"Not like I could with Ithiria."
Reaching out absently she picked up a bottle from the bed and read the label then took a swig, the alcohol burning as it went down, doing her the world of good.
"Well, I think I'll take the day off. No one will find us here, so I'm going to relax. I'll think of something to do to her... tomorrow."
She replaced the bottle and picked up the heavy revolver and spun the chamber, listening to it's dislocated clicking as it rotated.
"Yes, tomorrow. Everything comes back to the same point. It begins, it ends... and starts again. Revolution."
Pointing the weapon at a poster on the wall she sighted for it's head and pulled the trigger.


"Yes.... revolution...."

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Lost in Space

The mining station was deserted. The only sounds in the vast hanger bay the cooling of the slicers engines. She walked down the ramp and out into the bay. Lights flickered and automatic systems powered up.

"Fucking tomb...."
She pulled a heavy pistol out of her bag and walked over to the hanger bay control room and looked in. A dead overseer lay slumped in the corner, a pistol in his hand and a bullet wound in the back of his head. From the look of the spray, self inflicted. Reaching out, his body was still warm.
"Recent. What the hell happened here?"

A sound brought her head up and she looked deeper into the room. Something was there, a scratching sound at the door. With pistol raised she breathed deeply and opened the door. A small black puppy looked up at her and barked. She picked it up and looked at her, it's little tongue licking it's nose.
"Can this day get any more strange?"
Cuddling the puppy she made her way into the security centre and sat down at the main sec-station and pulled a datadump. Most of the stations memory core had been damaged, but enough was available from the backups to show what he needed. The external camera's showed him the ships, the spiky ships.

It took some doing but she managed to repair the memory and watch the hanger bay as the dropship landed and the soldiers of Sansha began their duties. She watched impassively as the miners and their dependants were herded out and the puppy barked. Pausing the shot the puppy barked again and whined, she fluffled it's head. Watching the screen she shivered as the man looked around, then up at the camera. A face she'd seen before, one of the Overseers of the True Slave Foundations.

And he'd left his puppy behind? What kind of monster leaves his puppy behind? How can you loose a puppy? She looked at the small tab on it's collar. Ghost.

She kissed the puppy's head and walked back to the slicer. As she walked into the ship she could heard the screaming and hammering from deeper inside the ship and ignored it.
"It's definately been one of those days today puppy."