By David C. Daoust
Despite an almost relentlessly bad day, Craiden was holding himself together. From waking up with a hangover, to not taking his meds, to having the APC he was in suddenly crushed by his own cohort Vincent. Then being dragged into the very belly of the ship of those he hated, just to be locked up, then freed, have his mother take off in a starfighter, –a starfighter– and then have those very same people that freed him, lock him up again.
He was holding it together though. It was after all, just one day, one day out of a lifetime of trudging about a desert moon, doing pretty much whatever he felt like doing.
He did note that his bruised side, and even what he was convinced were broken ribs had stopped bothering him. Even the persistent cough seemed to vanish. He wasn’t sure when this happened. There was a lot going on. He almost felt as though the infection was gone completely. Though what changed? He had no clue. He actually felt pretty good.
Ultimately he wasn’t really one to worry. People were going to do what they were going to do. There was no need to impose your will on anyone; people were either right or wrong. Sometimes you have a reason to be wrong, sometimes you’re just wrong. The rest of the time you’re right. No sense in making a bunch of laws for everyone to cow to.
Vincent would say it was all rooted in fear. His mother would say it was all about control, Power.
Craiden, like all the First Wave children, was home schooled. His mother having been raised, not only under Alliance tutelage, but also with access to the Swan Archives and Libraries, was far more educated than most. Of course, Craiden had only recently learned of his mother’s heritage, he could not help but wonder what else she’d left out.
Amongst his lessons, he had learned of the tortoise, which was one of those species that had been brought back into existence under the Second Sun. Tortoise were a fascinating species that could live close to two hundred years. It had occurred to Craiden as a young boy, that if just one tortoise could live that long, with nothing but a shell on his back, then he could make it all his allotted years, with nothing but his brain and a good spirit to guide him. Heck, Craiden would be surprised to learn if a tortoise had a brain bigger than a plumb; He always meant to check, but his musings about ancient critters, never seemed to happen while he had access to the Crawler’s Archives.
As the soldier escorted Craiden to what he imagined would be his latest cell, Craiden had already begun the arduous task of slipping the thin piece of metal into the delicate circuitry of the binders, whose energy beams currently bound his hands in front of him. They never seemed to think to check his sleeve for the wire; this would be the second set of binders he’d slipped all in one day. Craiden smirked a bit with a nod as the soldier cast him a grim look, completely unaware of what his captives dexterous hands were doing, right under his nose.
Craiden’s actions however halted when he found himself brought not to a cell, but what appeared to be a luxury suite! He quickly finished the job, just as the guard turned to release his binders. Craiden instead handed the guard the now loose binders as he brushed past him to take in the room. The guard raised an eyebrow as he accepted the binders.
Craiden made himself comfortable on a rather plush coach as the guard turned to leave, sealing the door behind.
It wasn’t until the sound of an airlock followed the sealed door, that Craiden really felt as though he’d been caught in a trap. It was no luxury suite, or a cell, it was an automated ship!
“What’s the big idea?” Craiden yelled as he leaped off the couch and pounded on the sealed door. “Hey!”
“Hay is for horses,” Suzanne said behind him as she ate a peach. The mottled woman’s hologram had appeared within the small shuttle that was currently detaching from the Cruiser. Craiden felt as the small ship launched into the black.
“What’s going on?” Craiden asked, “No one said anything about a shuttle ride.”
“Right,” Suzanne said with a shrug as she wiped a stream of juice up her chin and into her mouth. “Well, why would we? Look, you got a lot of questions to answer, the sooner you’re delivered, the better.”
“I don’t answer to no one,” Craiden said fuming, “Especially not to you and your kinds’ Judges!”
“Well,” Suzanne answered almost sweetly, “That’s good, ‘cause this ship couldn’t handle the flight all the way back to the Colleges…”
“What?” Craiden asked, confused about where he was going.
Suddenly a second holographic form began to weave together. It was another woman. She had jet black hair that was pulled in two tight pigtails on either side of her head. Pigtails that spiked sharply in all directions, she wore a surprisingly short orange skirt with a green sweater, with a tall pair of leather boots that chased stockings up her thighs, all topped by a black leather jacket with a rather obnoxious skull emblazoned on one shoulder. Really her clothing looked more like a costume than anything anyone would seriously wear, a pirate costume.
“Sweet Honey Zhou!” Suzanne announced triumphantly. As the woman’s hologram fully formed she struck a notorious pose, though the pose quickly crumbled into a girlish giggle. The two greeted each other with a phony kiss to each others holographic cheeks “Looking good Honey!”
“You too, Suzy!” Honey said, though her eyes lit up when she noticed the peach, “Of course you’re eating a peach, you devil! You did that on purpose!”
“Of course I did,” Suzanne answered, with a devilish grin, “It was hilarious!”
The two laughed at something that escaped Craiden entirely.
“How’s the bizz?” Honey asked, as some form of obnoxious greeting.
Really, Craiden found the whole exchange intolerably obnoxious.
“Same as always, a few bumps from unexpected places,” Suzanne answered simply as she tossed the peach pit to someone or something that wasn’t in the image, and then grabbed up a napkin to dab at her chin and clean her hands, “other than that, well, I’m still in the boards good graces. Got nothing on your bizz though… from what I hear.”
“Are you kidding me?” Zhou asked, her gleefulness unending. “These people will buy anything, -I doubled my fortune- off action figures…” she suddenly spun about, her skirt twirling up to show her rump, “featuring my butt!”
“Bah-hahah,” Suzanne laughed with her.
Craiden didn’t really have access to Consortium media. If he had though, he would recognize ‘Sweet Honey Zhou’ as the notorious ‘Pirate Queen’ that harassed all of the biggest, richest corporations. She stole from the rich, gave to the poor! At least that’s how the corporations decided to depict her throughout their alarmist propaganda that echoed throughout Consortium news media, and ultimately, throughout the many sequels of her live action movies, supposedly based on her life, all of which she was cut in on. Consortium Execs preferred to glorify things they held the rights too. News stories about real pirates, could lead to lawsuits… at least from any good pirate.
“It also led to my good favor with the Board!” Zhou informed, she was Seaguard all the way, and an Exec, “Which led to my latest project, which now I’m ‘hitting bumps from unusual places’…”
Suddenly the pleasantries were over, and Sweet Honey Zhou’s gaze fell on Craiden. The gleefulness finally faded, to be replaced by a pout.
“You stole my drones,” Zhou suddenly accused with a stomp of her foot, the small crease that appeared in her brow though, he found cute.
Craiden was satisfied with that. That pretty much answered all his questions right there. When the sound of the airlock suddenly returned, and the door slid open. Rather than the soldiers and highly polished walls of the Consortium cruiser, he found a group of thugs, dressed equally as ‘pirate-y’ as Zhou, with a darkened ship wall that matched their decor.
Craiden suddenly wondered what tortoise soup tastes like.
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