Fugit Inreparabile Tempus

[ostrogod]

little story I though of while trying to earn the independent trader award. I may or may not continue and finish it at some point



Chapter 1 - Improvisation


There are no guarantees in the life of a pirate. But if you're good, oh the rewards are many. Problem is, in order to get good, you have to survive being bad.



We got lucky. Her pilot was a rookie, she was understaffed and the gunmen must have been cross-eyed. With the Steel Song Freighter we'd just stolen in Xeen Prime we rammed them and proceeded to board. Within minutes I was in the bridge, holding a gun to the captain's face. The rest of the crew surrendered.
"Seg, get some rope. Let's tie 'em up. How many have we got?"
"Eight hot and two cold, so far. Better check how many there's supposed to be."
"You! Capt'n!" I barked at the officer, "how many in your crew?"
He shifted his gaze from the gun pointed at his nose to me, his hands still held behind his head, sweat building up on his brow. "Just... ten." He had soft features and neatly combed black hair, but his clothes looked like he'd been rolling around in the mud. He was fairly fit, but not fit for battle.
"You better not be lying to me, pansy! I'll throw you out the airlock!"
He looked back at the gun. "J-just ten."
I turned back to talk to Seg. What I had in stupidity back then, I had in luck also. The captain didn't move.
"How's the rope coming?"
"Bruce is on it, should be here soon."



With the hostages safely secured, I stood alone in the bridge while the others rummaged the rest of the ship. From outside it had looked like a Raptor Raider, but it was longer and layered, the interior reminiscent of a Valentine Class. I had never seen a ship like that, but it didn't strike me as odd. Back then there was much I hadn't seen. The captain's chair stood elevated at the back of the circular bridge, four holographic screens beside it. Three meters in front of it and in the middle of the room the pilot's seat stood on a pivot depressed into the floor. A large screen surrounded it completely, showing live footage from the ship's surroundings. Around it by the bridge's circumference five stations were set up with monitors and controls galore. I guessed that the whole ship could be moved and operated by six people if needed.

Seg walked back in. He was a handsome, charismatic fella. Men and women seemed to trust and follow him, without reason. The two of us went way back and we had rounded up the crew and planned the freighter's heist together. We hadn't planned on attacking this ship, though. This was just opportunity and improvisation.
"Hey Arm. She's looking pretty good. Only minimal damage. Cherry is running a full report. The freighter's a wreck, though."
"Whatever. What's in the hold?" I was looking down at the console in the pilot's seat.
"Not sure yet, but it reeks. Chat and Chaucie are looking through it. The crew is tied up in there, too. Should probably do something about them soon."
"I'll think of something."
My mind wasn't on the crew, though, nor on the wares or even on the conversation. I walked towards the captain's chair, perched above the rest like a throne. Ambitious ideas were sparking. Seg went on:
"This was awesome, Arm. This is the bloody motherload! We get this baby to the yard, it's parts must be worth thousands. Maybe we'll even find someone to buy it whole. We'll be set for years."
Seg was a good man and a good friend, but he lacked vision. Perhaps it was in that moment that I first saw a glimpse of the things to come, and I wanted it all. I wasn't going to sell this ship, this was my ticket out of the damned slums of the Steel Fortress' outer walls. This ship was the beginning of my story, my career, my empire.

I sat on the elevated chair and looked at the screens. A small inscription between them read: "Sed Fugit Interea Fugit Inreparabile Tempus".

[fallen]

Awesome post! Hope to see more, +1 Karma!

[dayan]

If you don't mind my input at streamlining the tagline: "To Survive as a Pirate, You must be Good at being Bad." I like this. I hope to see it expanded upon.

[En1gma]

Great read, hope to see more soon!

[bookworm21]

This is the sort if thing I'd love to do if I had the time! Reading someone else's is the next best thing. You've just inspired me to leave 4X and go back to RPG for a while. That said, maybe ill have to do both simultaneously...

[ostrogod]

Thanks for the feedback, boys, much obliged.
The story is more a bunch of scenes which I found cool, rather then a cohesive, planned out plot.
This chapter isn't as cool as the last, but I wanted to write the scene with all that dialogue.
TL;DR because this chapter is a bit boring:

SPOILER: Click to show

SPOILER: Click to show

Arm finds out the Fugit's captain is a d*ck and injures him. The members of Arm's gang are introduced. They realise they need a pilot to sail away from Xeen, and turn to the ship's original crew, who agree to serve them without much ceremony.

(don't click it if you want to read the chapter!)

Warning: includes language which may offend some people.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 2 - Meetings

I opened a door at random and looked inside.
"This'll do."
I pushed the captain inside, walked in and closed the door behind me. It was an officer's living quarters, three meters long and less than two wide. A metal slab with a thin air mattress and some sheets occupied most of it. On the corner by the door a small cupboard shared the space with a tiny writing desk covered with sheets of paper.
I pointed at the bed:
"Sit down", I was calm, focused. I pulled the chair out from under the desk and sat in front of him, "Ship's log says you're Captain Varo, Publican, coming from Ungolhush. You got those barrels of TPT there I guess."
He looked at me silently, the anger visibly boiling behind his eyes. I knew he didn't have the balls to try anything, though.
"What the hell is Triphenyl-Pyrylium Tetrafluoroborate anyway? Explosives?"
"No, it's used in terraforming." - His tone was dry, as if bored.
"Shame. You had a buyer ready in Xeen?"
"The Steel School of Knowledge Recovery, in the Steel Fortress. They won't buy it from you. I am expected there, they'll raise the alarm soon. You won't get away."
"Sure. Log says you had twenty-six people on board when you left Xeen. Where are they?"
"The Hills of Melothuliqu are a dangerous place." the meaning was clear. I paused, almost shocked at how casually he'd said that.
"You led these folks to their deaths for some barrels of gunk? You're more cold-hearted than me!"
He scorned, raising his voice for the first time.
"You know nothing, boy. You are no spacer! Death is just another currency out here."
I was damn annoyed. I stood up and stomped heavily on his toes. It made a satisfying, tiny cracking noise before he yelled out in pain.

Outside the room I locked the door and pressed a button on my comm.
"Seg, you there?"
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Call everyone and meet me in the refectory."
"Trouble?"
"I'll explain it there."
"Mars' still in the freighter."
"Get her to come over, too."



The refectory was one of the larger rooms in the ship. Two rusting metal tables were bolted to the floor on either side of it, surrounded by uncomfortable looking chairs. There was just enough space to pass between them. On the side opposite to the entrance a door opened to another corridor. Beside it a food preparation area was squeezed between dirty machines which, I assumed, dispensed some kind of gruel or another.
Seg, Bruce, Cherry and Stick were sitting by one of the tables, I was leaning on a chair next to them. Chaucie was guarding the hostages in the cargo bay. Chat walked in and looked surprised.
"Woah, this place is flash! It looks even neater then Osna's!"
"Osna's is a shithole, Chat." - that was Seg.
"Don't hate, man. Some of us couldn't afford to eat out at the spice hall."

"Listen up!" I interrupted, "Mars is gonna be a while, so we'll start without her.
"The freighter is a mess and we can't go back to the surface in it. We could try to land in this ship, but we'd never make it. Military ships don't fly under the radar as easily, and it's gonna be flagged as stolen very soon. We could hide until the heat is off, but captain Pansyass is a publican. They won't give up the search quick. Our best shot is to head out of Xeen completely. We'll lie low on another planet and make some dough selling off the cargo."
"What? No way man! We're gonna be months! My girl will leave me for sure." - Bruce was always a softy, probably worrying about his momma, too.
"And she'll take you back when you show up with your butt full of creds. Not like we have a choice anyway." - Stick had probably though this all out long before any of us, and much more.
"You're missing one thing, Arm. Who's gonna take us there? Ain't one of us knows how to sail the star rads." - Seg had family in Steel Fortress, too.
"Marsy brought us here. She can fly the ship." - I really knew nothing back then.
"Mars is a slugplane pilot, she flies, but she's never been to deep space. She don't know the first thing about sailing."
"Seg is right, Army", Mars had just walked into the room, "If we tried pushing the ship on engines alone we'd be old and wrinkly before we made it out of the Xeholden system." The way she talked made bad news sound like you just won the lottery.
"Then we just need to find someone who can sail her."
Cherry looked up from the datapad she'd been reading:
"You think the crew will turn?"
I grinned.
"Something tells me they're not very loyal to their cap."



The ship's seven crew members were sitting on the TPT barrels that they were tied to. Chaucie was sitting on another barrel, looking bored.

"Liven up, boys!" I entered the cargo bay with Mars on tow, "Now, what should we do with you lot?"
The men looked up, some worried, others not so much.
"See, My friends and I were happily on our way out of Xeen Prime when your ship carelessly crashed onto ours. Now our freighter is damaged and not space-worthy. So it seems to me you lot owe us some transportation."

One of the worried men looked up perplexed:
"You crashed into us! And boarded us!"
I put one foot on the barrel he was sitting on and pushed hard until it toppled. Man and barrel fell flat on the ground, with a loud 'thud'. Mars and Chaucie chuckled.
"As I was saying, you owe us, and we need some people capable of sailing this boat. You'll be paid your usual wage plus a bonus when we arrive at our destination, where you'll be free to go your merry way. Any questions?"
"What of Captain Varo?" - this was one of the calmer crew members asking.
"He is feeling indisposed and has retired to his quarters. He's asked me to direct the ship in his absence."
"Pete's second in command, for when the cap's away..." - the whiny voice came from the floor.
"So which one of you is the pilot?" - I ignored the idiot.
"I am," the same man who'd asked about his captain, "the name is Sturn, and Pete is dead. I'll sail her for you. And they will help, too."
He looked over at his mates, who in turn exchanged glances with each other. They looked back at Sturn and then at me. In silence, they agreed.
"Alright. Chauce, Marsy, let's untie these guys. I want us away from here asap."

Sturn stood up, stretched out then rubbed his wrists and looked at me with the same disinterested expression he had held the whole time.
"So... Where to captain?"

Actually I hate how this chapter turned out. it's lame and boring. I'll try to rewrite it.