December 3rd 2014 Pod and Planet YC116 Entry: Memories Untold

                                             Memories Untold

                       Written for the Eight Thousand Suns in New Eden catagory

Pod and Planet Fiction Contest YC116

Memories Untold

“Darya Specta, you are being apprehended on multiple charges of crimes against the colonies, four counts of Empire Secrets Theft , for your continued ties to Sansha as his illegitimate daughter and more recently for your failure to steer the crew of SS Freelance Opportunist to victory.”

Cold are these words that ring out on my newly awakening ears. The realisation hits me moments before my lost memories come flooding back to my rebooted mind. The blasted implant had worked. Had I known they were hunting me I would have changed my retransplantation station. The humane me didn’t have a clue! The cold, calculating me is back. No more loose ends.

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Rust, steam and bilge water caged me in. Yellow droplets slid haltingly down the disintegrating bars of my cell. My heavy eye lids drooped. I felt the light tap of one of the many drips land on my head. I did not venture to move, my entire body felt battered and broken and a piercing pain shot up my spine at even the thought of moving. I struggled for a moment to recollect the past few hours. I drew too many blanks for my liking; I only came up with snatches of a struggle, being forced onto a decrepit Caldari ship, a scarred, pitted face with piercing purple eyes leering at me before I had blacked out.

Crius! That bastard had nabbed me. Since when am I on his list?

 I liked to think that I was infamous, but it was a known fact that Crius, New Eden’s best bounty hunter only took the wealthiest clients, the tycoons of the underworld. Why oh why would bad little me be on his list? Someone out there must really hate me. My lip curled at the thought. Sluggishly I opened my eyes, taking in the dingy lock up. Shards of glass littered the floor, which dipped towards the centre, gathering around a clogged drain that pooled over with a nasty green gunk. I wrinkled my nose and tried not to breathe too deeply. My head spun and I dropped into my hands. Who keeps a capable captain in an escapable prison? This cell leaks more than a sieve. I nursed my pounding head and pinched the bridge of my nose. Bridge. Yes, that’s where I should go, teach those idiots how to lock up a captain for good. Seriously Crius? Who hired your crew?

With a fingertip I traced one of the puckered floor panels by my feet. Absent-mindedly I tapped, it gave a little. As I thought, the place was falling to pieces. I shouldn’t have any trouble getting out. Give it five minutes, no point being hasty.

I closed my eyes and listened to the ship. She told me what I needed to hear. The clumsy clanks of gears turning and hisses of steam from cracked joinery, air vents gasping for the pungent air that leaked into service ducts. They may have locked me in the belly of the ship and thrown away the key, but this pile of rust would not even stand up to a gentle breeze. I was more concerned with the risk of getting tetanus.

Can’t sit around all day…I heaved my battered body away from the crutch of the back wall and reached out, snatching up an offending loose nail that had rolled into my cell. Pocketing it, I slid a finger between the floor panels by my feet and found no resistance as I lifted it away. Flakes of rust fell away and littered the ground. I peered into the dark mouth that was left behind, as I had guessed, a service hatch. Jackpot!

“Don’t think I’ll hang around for breakfast after all!” I strain my ears, listening for a few seconds. No reply, no scuttle of startled feet. The imbeciles have forgotten to guard me. Oh well, their loss. I chuckled and slipped through the gap, my toes found the rough edges of the first wrung. Crouching, I lowered the panel over my head, plunging myself into darkness. No point making it easier for them. I began the climb down, attempting to avoid the darting jets of steam. Someone really needs to invest in nanite paste and come down here sometime! The stench of leaking waste pipes and fuel fumes grew evidently stronger the deeper I climbed.

I went to blindly step onto the next wrung when I was brought up short. There were no more footholds. Steadying myself, I peered down into the gloom, searching for the slightest glint. I toed the empty void and found the square rim of the duct. Working on a whim, I lowered myself hand over hand until I was hanging from the last wrung. Letting go of one hand I reached into my pocket and drew out the nail. Knew you’d come in handy… I held my breath as I let it fall and heard the almost immediate ping as it hit bottom. I gave it a second to rattled to its resting place before I dropped, landing with a muffled thud. I stayed crouched and ran a tentative hand towards where I thought I had heard the nail land. I knocked something flying, before closing my hand around the nail. Gotcha!

I reached out and traced a horizontal duct. Blindly I crawled along it till I came to a blinking red light mounted on one wall. The dim red light picked out the mouth of another shaft leading upwards, and to my relief there was a ladder. Once I had climbed a few metres I began to see tiny fissures of light making their way through the cracks in the panelling. I stopped to listen. No sign of life, all good. Only the hiss of steam and the general hum of machinery greeted me. Bracing myself against the walls of the duct, I tapped the surrounding panels, testing their resistance. I found one loose enough to wiggle out of place with the help of the nail and I heaved it outwards. It fell with a loud clatter. Tentatively I peeked through the square of light and was met with a dimly lit storage corridor. Perfect!  Looking down, I balanced precariously on the highest wrung, about to launch myself into the corridor when I lost my equilibrium and tumbled headfirst towards the floor.

Shit! I glanced around quickly. Lucky no one saw that.  I winced as the echo of my graceful entrance ricocheted away.  Picking myself up, my attention was drawn towards the right and I began to walk past overflowing storage containers and piles of spare parts. A tannoy on its last wires, dangling from the wall, crackled to life.

“All crew report to living quarters for breakfast. That would be in an upward direction for anyone who’s idiotic enough to be below deck 17. This is the last time I will remind you.” The announcer’s gravelly voice drawled sarcasm.

I like him, I grinned. Someone else on this ship that can’t stand idiots. Glancing at the flaking white number 29 on the wall, I set off at a lazy jog following the arrow which read “Upper Levels”.

“Better not start breakfast without me bitches!” I muttered.

I wound my way through countless more pipes and service hatches, ducking under swinging lights and inched open stiff heavy doors. Passing through a badly stocked armoury I grabbed a pair of standard issue pistols and a blade, stopping only to strap the latter to my thigh and ram home the pistols into my belt. The scenery didn’t change much the higher I went. The only difference was the mild improvement of air flow. As I approached the hatch to deck 17 the fragrant aroma of frying oil saturated the air. I took a moment, a deep breath before clambering up the ladder. I crouched poised, my nose inches from the metal, ready to force up the hatch when a violent tremor shook the ship, knocking me clean from the ladder. I rebounded from wall and was flung forward onto my hands. From above I heard panicked yells over the mad scramble to get to battle stations.

Seriously? Before breakfast? What inconsiderate arseholes! I waited for the crew to disperse before creeping through the hatch into the galley. One central platform served as a table, closely guarded by skinny benches. All around the sides, cupboards and equipment dangled, grabbing at me. Breakfast was a miserable sight for sore eyes. Lumpy grey gruel festered in tarnished dishes, untouched. A few unattended deep fried pastries sizzled away in a griddle. Everything in sight was covered in a thick film of grime. The ship’s galley left no room for manoeuvre; therefore every available surface received a smattering of whatever was cooking.

I snatched up the remaining misshapen pastries from the spitting oil, coming away with only a few minor burns. Hurriedly I chewed down piping hot mouthfuls, glad of the heat so that I could not taste the vile oil. I had barely finished my stolen meal, when blaring klaxons brought me back to reality, nearly causing me to choke.  I spluttered, glancing up at a glitching monitor.

“Idiots! What moron taught you to fight?” I vented my anger on the grime covered screen, smacking it out of place. I had half a mind to go up to the bridge and teach old Crius a lesson. Only half though, I was not really up to another round in the ring.  I’ll just sit tight here for a while, I hope they can win this one. I perched on a bench, leaning back against the counter and let my eyes close. I snoozed on and off in this manner for a good hour, fleetingly resurfacing when the thunder of the ship taking hits broke into my stupor. I finally woke for real as critical alarms began to wail and warning lights in dire need of re-wiring strobed.

“That’s it kids! I’ve left you to your own devices for too long!” I leapt to my feet and charged out the closest door. I found myself in a somewhat more upgraded stairwell. I took the stairs two at a time, counting the decks as I passed the landings. Should be able to find the bridge on deck 3 in this wreck of a Caldari ship.  Finally I arrived on deck 3. Opening the starkly painted white door I could hear the rumble of Crius roaring orders corridors away. I let the metal hatch swing shut behind me and edged forward. Arriving at a junction, I poked my head round the corner only to even more rapidly retract it. I ducked into a medic alcove just in time, as a burley henchman headed my way. Please, go left. I can’t be asked to fight on a full stomach. It was my luck that he went right, and muscle memory set me on autopilot. I had a pistol to his head before he even realised I was there.

“Now, what will it be? Stay quiet, or fight? I’m not bothered either way.”

His eyes were trained on me. He began to slump, opened his mouth to speak and without warning struck out. He did not expect the speed of my reflexes and his look of pure shock was comical when I stopped his fist in mine and twisted. Within seconds I flipped him onto the floor and ended him. Nobody ever had reason to use the name Darya Specta as cruel, swift deaths were my mercy.  I stepped over his huge frame and padded the way he had come.

 Several doors and as many guards later, I found myself outside a tank of a door. Forget fire door, this was nuclear blast proof. Two small flexi-glass view holes were at eye-level, and I cautiously scanned the bridge. Crius had his back to me, barking some command at a lanky techy. I strained to hear what he was saying and pulled back, grinning.

“Someone pull up visuals of the prison block, I ‘aven’t ‘eard anything for too long!” a monitor blinked to life, empty cell after empty cell flickered on the screen. “Shit. She’s gon’. Eyes peeled, this one may not look it, but she ‘as fight in ‘er and a scary-good aim.”

I chose that moment to make my entrance. No time like the present. Just as I stormed through the door Crius turned to snatch his gun but he was too late. I fired a warning shot at one of the monitors.

“Retreat! I repeat, retreat!” the techy squawked into comms.

There was a scrabble for cover as every crew member on deck, save for Crius, panicked.

“Oh I do like the effect I have on you, but for once just do your jobs!” fucking imbeciles! “I’m taking over. Crius, god knows you’re a good hunter, but you really know how to pick your crew. Utterly useless I think you’ll agree.”

Crius, shrugged. “This was last minute, ‘igh priority, ‘ad to take what I could.”

“High priority? Hardly. I mean we’ve worked together before…” I didn’t understand, nothing made sense.

“Come off it Darya, enough pretending. You mighta fooled Concord when ya left that clinic, but ya sure as ‘ell don’t fool us.”

“What am I supposed to be pretending?” I felt flustered. I remembered nothing from before the clinic, all I knew then was my name and my drive to pirate. I had just about figured out that something had gone wrong during surgery, before a frightened nurse had ushered me through back doors and goods entrances to leave me at the entrance of a homeless shelter. At the time I had had bandages trailing from my back and neck, and incredible pain at the back of my head. I had had to get over it at the time, more pressing matters of food and money weighed on my mind.

I grimaced at Crius, what on earth is he on about?

“Shall we just get to the point where I teach you how to win this fight?” I snarled, daring anyone to challenge me. At that moment the severest of the tremors so far hit. This ship is taking some serious damage! It’s beyond saving now. I was knocked to the floor, smacking the back of my head against the console. I saw stars and momentarily blacked out. When I came to I struggled to concentrate, familiar images I did not recall ever seeing flashed before my eyes. Dazed and confused I battled to stand. Hanging on to the remains of the shattered console, reality hit me. I swayed, taking in the chaos of the disintegrating ship.

Crius and his crew had managed to reach the escape pods and were preparing to eject. He scanned the deck but he couldn’t find me through the rubble and sparking cables.

“We can’t leave without ‘er!” he fought his co-pilot but the hatch was already closing.

“Sir! We have to leave now! We can get her next time!” the hatch closed with a hiss as the pod pressurised.

I tried to call out but my voice was lost to the crash of metal and the scream of alarms as the ceiling fell through and split the main monitor in two. I was flung forward, landing inches from the pod bay. I clawed uselessly at the hatch. I screamed incoherently, but the crew were unreachable. They had taken the only pod that wasn’t faulty. I watched in horror whilst they ejected. The pod reached safety and simultaneously the final blow hit and good old SS Freelance Opportunist split like a sack of grain.

I felt nothing apart from the white pain in my mind. I could not move. My eyes were paralysed open and my vision faded. And then nothing.

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I am awake. I am alive. My mind focuses and my vision clears. Who am I?

“Darya Specta, you are being apprehended on multiple charges of crimes against the colonies, four counts of Empire Secrets Theft , for your continued ties to Sansha as his illegitimate daughter and more recently for your failure to steer the crew of SS Freelance Opportunist to victory.”