Chapter Downtime
Pirate Vessel Alkadia -10 BA
Willem, as Lyo had begun to think of himself, finally took the plunge in a nameless tavern on the frontier world of Gillem’s Point, as the ship laid up for repairs after a one-sided battle with a United Suns frigate.
Willem had been on the Alkadia for three cycles, and navigator now for almost a full cycle, after Hands had been shot by a crewman aboard a liner they had attacked and had died before they could save him. Willem’s skill and innate understanding of the way the ship flew had seen an improvement in the way they had run missions and an improvement in overall morale as well as rewards.
He had grown as well. Filling out, no longer as thin and lanky as before, layers of muscle building up his body so he looked the part of a rough and tumble pirate, even as his heart yearned for lesser things. Willem had even begun to get Pua Moko, multicoloured layers of ink bonded into his skin to show representations of events in the past couple of cycles. The exposure to more hard radiation had begun to change his skin tone, no longer as pale as before, it was now turning a deeper bronze and taking on darker casts in areas.
He had been taught from an early age; that based on his genetics, even though they could not identify his father or mother, he was most likely from Desinlo parents. Willem began to take on aspects of that heritage. It also suited him as Gya had kept her heritage so he felt no need to try and be somebody he was not.
In the Frontier were many outcasts from Clan Desinlo. Many families had come here after the original banishment and established new lives outside of Confederacy control. Willem eagerly learned everything he could about the rich culture of this lost clan. One thing a lot of Desinlo people had was Pua Mako, permanent skin colouring. This was not embedded tech, but actual ink impressed into layers of the skin by handheld machines with hundreds of tiny needles that would insert themselves, inject a tiny amount of ink, then pull back, allowing the skin to heal and change colour to match the pattern required.
It was for life, so when it came time for Willem to get his first, he chose something traditional but fitting for his role. Upon his right shoulder was a detailed image of a ship riding the stars like waves on the ocean, surrounded by the symbols of the Desinlo Clan. The image ran down his arm to the elbow, and he was very pleased with the result. This was the first of many Pua Moko he got.
He also got much better at piloting the ship, even to the point of being able to take over from the other navigator during a firefight as Willem had faster reflexes and an innate knack to be able to spin the ship and dodge heavy weapon fire.
During one encounter, the ship had been broad-sided by a Frigate as it pulled out of an asteroid field, and even as Willem had thrown the ship into Neospace to dodge any further weapons fire, they knew they would need repairs. The ship had been hulled.
No blame to be laid, as the Captain said. He thanked Willem for taking over and getting the ship clear before it could be torn in half. He’d saved the entire crew.
They put down on the closest world with facilities, Gillem’s Point. The Captain organized repair teams to fix the ship while the crew took leave. They would be there for three days, so they may as well relax, nothing else could be done.
Willem had initially stayed on board, checking and rechecking the nav systems, until the Captain had gruffly tossed him a credit stick and told him to get off this stinking tub and get some rest, or he’d beat him into the med bay and he could rest on his back.
Willem grabbed his jacket and went.
He wandered a bit aimlessly. The town was large, spread out, and set up to facilitate repairs for many different ships. This was typical of a lot of the frontier worlds. Most of them service bays for spacecraft of all types.
He finally entered a tavern that looked the same as all the rest, but this one was quiet, not too noisy, and mostly empty. He took a seat at the bar and looked at the array of bottles. The barkeep came over and leaned on the bar, polishing a glass and watching Willem quietly.
“What’s your poison, Son?” He asked in a quiet voice.
“Willem blinked away a twinge of memory and focused. “Some Siless- no you wouldn’t carry that, would you?”
The barkeep snorted. “No, Son. We don’t carry that pressing. Do you have another preference, or do you want me to size you up and get you something?”
“I’ll trust you, whatever you reckon,” Willem said as he felt somebody come up around and sit right beside him.
He turned his head and his heart froze. The hair, the face, the body. “Gya?”
She looked at him with a wide smile. “Raice is my name, Who’s Gya? Your girl?” In a different voice, but similar enough to pull at his heart.
“A long time ago, far away, yes,” Willem said as the barkeep placed a small glass full of amber liquid on the counter. Willem handed over the credit stick and the barkeep swiped it, then handed it back to him.
“That’s strong, Son. You might want to take it a bit slow.” The barkeep said. Willem nodded, swirled the liquid then downed it in one gulp. He coughed and gasped a bit, but endured, and felt the liquid fire run down his gullet.
“Hit me again,” Willem said. The barkeep nodded and refilled the glass.
“You okay?” Raice asked him, her hand gently resting on his arm.
Willem shook his head and downed the second glass as quickly as the first.
“I’m not at all okay, miss. I’m lost, stuck, and right now, aimless. No direction.” He replied, looking at her. Her eyes were not quite right, they were more silver than grey, and her face was more triangular than oval. But she was so similar it was breaking his heart.
He made a decision. “I’m uh, not too sure how to ask this, but ...” He stammered, suddenly nervous.
She smiled. “If you want to know if I am available, the answer is yes. There is a cost, I’m sure you can handle it though. And if not, I think we can come to some sort of arrangement.” She got off the barstool and gently pulled his arm so Willem got up and followed her.
“Raice?” Came the call from behind them. She turned and flashed a brilliant smile at the Barkeep who had a comm to his ear. “You take care of him, darlin’. He saved twenty men.”
Raice led Willem up the stairs and down a short hall into a spacious room that was modern and yet rustic at the same time. The main feature was a large bed, but it had a refresher and some chairs, looking quite comfortable. Willem walked over to the windows and looked out. He could see most of the urban sprawl and could see in the distance, the upper hull of the Alkadia in the mechanic bay, worklights glowing as the ship was slowly repaired from its battle damage.
He heard a noise and turned to see Raice slipping out of her dress so she was just in a short shift that barely covered anything.
“What’s your name?” She asked him.
“L-Willem, miss.” He managed to get out.
“Most of the boys around here never stop talking, Willem. I can see you’re different.” She said as she walked towards him and put her bare arms around him. Willem leaned into her and hugged her, just breathing and allowing memory to guide him.
Raice gently kissed him, then pulled him towards the bed with her. She turned and as his legs bumped the bed, she pushed him down and lay on the bed beside him.
“You remind me of somebody I lost, a long time ago. I’m not sure I should do this.” Willem said.
She leaned over him, letting her hair fall over his face as her lips slowly kissed his cheek and then he felt her warm breath on his ear. “Your head may be confused, Willem. But other parts of your body are more demanding.” He looked down as he felt her hand and saw just how aroused he was. Even through the shipsuit, he was pressing hard and her hand was gently tracing length and width.
Willem kept breathing evenly as she deftly undid the fasteners and slipped her hands inside to gently caress him. He shifted slightly and slid his arms out of the one-piece suit, then with her aid, he pulled his legs free and lay there naked in front of her.
Willem lay on his stomach as Raice leaned back afterward, one leg up as she rested, smoking a bacstick that had a sweet smell as she slowly blew clouds of multicoloured smoke around the room.
“I feel like I should thank you, Raice.” He said after watching her for a few minutes.
She smiled at him and laughed quietly. “No need to thank me, although it is most certainly appreciated. You were certainly energetic enough. Was this your first?”
Willem nodded and looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes.
“I must say, Willem, for somebody with no real experience, you are a considerate lover. Whomever this Gya is, she’s missed out on a real keeper in you.” Raice said as she smiled at him.
He sighed. “I may never see her again. You look like her, you even sound like her. I know you’re not her, but it feels almost close enough. I know you’re a different person, I just miss her so much. I love her.”
Raice looked at him, then took a final drag on her bac, tossed it into a basin by the bed, then rolled over and pulled him into a firm kiss.
“I’m not her, but if that is what you need, Willem. Let me be her, just for a moment. I’m here for you, imagine that I’m your girl, and enjoy the moment.” Raice said, pressing her breasts against his chest and letting him again inhale the warm scent of her as she traced long fingernails down his muscular chest.
He looked into her eyes and tried to lose himself in pleasure and memory.
The Alkadia lifted off from Gillem’s Point, fully repaired and rested, ready for action.
Willem continued to slowly improve the ship as best he was able. Loading different navigation programs allowed him to fly the ship more efficiently. Changing fuel feeds with the information he gleaned from planetary databases allowed for the engines to run longer and at higher thrusts for less fuel cost. Important on a mercantile vessel such as this. He worked with the gun crews to improve their ability to track hostiles and showed them to target specific hull points that were more generic. More ships fell to the pirate vessel and the crews’ fortunes rose with almost every improvement.
Willem had no choice, as he felt the more he could do, the better chance he might have to leave the ship at some point. However, the Captain was always watching, always aware, and never had the ship in a port close enough to allow Willem to jump ship and get any sort of easy transport back to the Confederacy.
Willem got his own back though. Over the first four full cycles, six pirates died from accidents. The same six that had killed and raped his crewmates from the TGX. Willem remembered but was so very careful that he thought the Captain never even suspected.
Suffocation claimed one, a pinprick in his Air Cycler claimed him while on a boarding party. The spoils were more easily split among the remaining crew so he was not missed, they never even bothered with the body, just left it to drift in the vacuum.
Another died when the maintenance shaft he was working on suddenly vented fuel and then cleaned itself. An accidental cycle that immersed him in hydrogen vapour long enough to kill him cleanly. The Captain shrugged and kicked the body, this man had been a pain all along, and the Captain was glad to be rid of him.
The third life was given to Pangea when the pirate was doing some maintenance work on a gun port, secured to a line that was holding him in place on the hull. The line broke from rubbing against a sharp piece of hull plate. Before he could even shout, he was fifty kims away and charred by the drive exhaust.
Number four lost it when his gun discharged while he was cleaning it. An accident that was so normal nobody even thought twice about it, except had they checked they would have seen that his power pack was set to overload. A setting that nobody on the crew even had the slightest idea how to do.
Number five was killed during a boarding detail when his suit bearings suddenly seized. All of them at once, his suit unmoving, he was an easy target for the defenders. The Captain worried a bit because that man had always been careful with his suit, but the appearance of a United Suns Corsair close by stopped his thought as the Alkadia fled into neospace, leaving the body to drift.
The last pirate died when his suit decompressed explosively during yet another boarding detail. An examination would have revealed over a hundred tiny cuts through the layers of the suit material, however, it was not even noticed as this prize contained a vault filled with rarified Crystalline Carbon that was worth more than a thousand Regals. “We split among 14 now. That means everybody gets 60 Regals instead of 55.” Said the Captain. Five Regals was the difference between a street whore and a night in a luxury suite with two high-class beauties. That alone brooked no argument or concern about the lost man.
Willem had a significant nest egg built up. The Captain, true to his word, ensured Willam earned and was paid with every action. Unlike the rest of the men, Willem did not indulge in women, the only one he went with was when they eventually made their way back to Gillem’s Point, then he would spend his nights with Raice and imagine she was his lost Gya. He also barely drank alcohol, so his balance simply continued to accrue. He could draw funds at any terminal in the United Suns from his thumbprint, as it was guaranteed by the Idolan Commerce Society, which even the Confederacy honoured as they helped run the economy of the wild zones.
He acquired more Pua Moko as he felt that was a worthwhile outlay of funds. He got both arms from the wrist to the collarbone, and both legs from the ankle to the groin done in detailed artwork signifying some of the Desinlo history he had learned from the people living in the Frontier. Front and back, his developing and muscular body was becoming a living work of art to a heritage he felt was lost to him, but which he wanted to remember.
He also began to learn details of the history of the Desinlo people, and the Clan they had been forced to abandon. Details that did not mesh at all with the Confederacy history he had been taught cycles ago.
The Confederacy was always close to Willem’s mind, and whenever he heard news, he would read it eagerly. No word was heard of specific ships or specific clans, but he listened and watched reports of border skirmishes and helped the Captain plan patrols to avoid Confederacy ships. Willem knew that if they came up against a Confederacy ship, his best bet was to run because he’d have no chance to get any sort of message off before the entire ship was blown apart. Piracy was not tolerated, and the only penalty the Confederacy honoured was death.