This is my entry to the Inspired By Images Of Eve Competition 3. More details and links to all entrants can be found at Starfleet Comms.
Dreams of a Dark God
Chapter 1: The Rifter Pilot
“Dammit, Cookie get outta bed!”
I grab a half empty Quafe from the counter and throw it at my mechanic’s pillow sucking head. She’s a great mechanic, keeps my ship running. But, she sleeps like the dead and never wakes up at any reasonable time. The Quafe tossed at her has only a slight effect. Cookie moans and grabs at her thigh where the can hit her and leaked out unto her amber skin.
“Cookie!”
I grab one of her tools intent on doing bodily harm.
Suddenly eyes open and a bare chested mechanic sits up in front of me “Don’t touch my tools, Hank.” Amused, I stow the tool back in its cradle.
“You’re late. I need you in the hanger to go over my Rifter for the OP. Here put on some clothes.” I look around the dark room for clothing, none appear.
“In the kitchen Hank. God, I have a headache. I checked “Memphis” before the party, she’s good to go unless you went crazy again and tried to mount a laser unto her.
“I should have never told you about that fit. If you ever tell any of your chums about that, I will skin you alive and throw you in a Hulk’s hold!” She sticks out her tongue in response to my usual threat at her teasing. I hand over the fetched clothes and I watch Cookie change. Four years ago when we first met, Cookie saved my life and livelihood by “attaching” to me.
She was piloting a Noctis out on a salvage tour for a “Raven party gone wrong”. She noticed my Rifter taking on some active drones co-opted by some bad AI. Fed up with Amarrian ideals I had sold off my meager holdings bought a Rifter and aimed it for non-empire space. The Rifter bought was based on at least twenty salesmen who said the Rifter was the king of all frigates. Once purchased, I immediately slapped on an energy beam (bad idea) and went into space, only to get blown-up by some ratty old drones.
Well, Cookie called in some support and saved me, nursed me back to health and properly fit my replaced Rifter named “Memphis.” She had no idea who I was at the time, except that I was an idiot from Amarr. She has saved my ass many times over during the years now and I owe her big. Of course we dated for awhile, and then we cooled. We are a team, thick through thin.
We make it to my hanger. Several support personnel and crew mill around working and prepping for today’s action. I look across and see Memphis dwarfed by Cookie’s old Noctis and my newly acquired Hurricane.
“I want to take my ‘cane Cookie! Couldn’t you noob fit it?” I say half serious as I look up at the huge bulwark and massive engines. Cookie pats my face as you would a treasured idiot.
“C’mon, Cookie with the raw power that courses through her she’d be much better to fly than my dinky Rifter.”
Cookie looks at a report she’s been handed. “You know you don’t have the skills or ISK required for operating it at a safe level. Why you bought that monster ship and not a “little” cruiser is beyond me. It cost us so much ISK I don’t think we’ll be able to properly fit it for a month, which is just as well ‘cause the skills needed to fly her are not uploaded into your brain yet.”
“Cruisers are so damn ugly. I’ll just stick with Memphis a little while longer. Is she loaded and ready?”
“Good to go, Hank. You’ve read the mission notes?”
“Of course, go to pirate rock “Addax”. Destroy with all prejudice; acquire corpses to make into lamp shades. Yep, you’re standard mercenary faire.”
I loaded into my pod, plugged in and waited for the goo to fill around my body and seal me in a fluid cocoon. That done, I piloted my pod over and jacked into Memphis, and said goodbye to Cookie. I could just make out her long silky hair on the ships tracking visual.
“Flight check, Memphis ready for launch.” I get necessary clearance from station control and launch, I jet to a safe distance away from the station, set a course for pirate island Addax and engage warp.
I think about Cookie a lot in space. She’s the only one I really have any meaningful relationship with and I still hold feelings for her. Space is long and lonely, maybe when I get back…
“Sleep period scheduled.” My computer barks at me and then turns my brain off.
I wake up half a day later with a minute warning for ETA at Addax. The computer pours raw info into my brain, - Speed at 6.6 AU’s, now decelerating, guns unbridled and loaded, afterburner spooling up, defensive systems and EWAR modules coming online. Brain and computer linked have become one.
Memphis warps into the pirate base with frightening speed. The rock the pirates call home enlarges from a pea to the shape of a small moon in the blink of an eye. Enemy targets pop up all around me on d-scan and I realize I’m dead. Opposition was expected to be light according to my hired Intelligence corp. Yeah, right. I’m firing those guys if ever I get home alive.
I scan the enemy. Rogue drones, an entire fleet directly ahead of me. The scourge of my life, always when I least expect it. I immediately target the closest group and unleash hell upon them courtesy of my three 125mm Gatling AutoCannons. The group angrily pop out of existence with little fireworks displays. I fly through the atomized metal and detritus in look of more prey.
However, the prey find me, the computer barks out warnings as it tries to scramble the enemy locks. No use, the remaining drones have me painted and locked, I’m gonna die. Evil weapons fire on my ship and quickly knock out my shields and then chomp mightily into armor. Multiple alarms sound as I focus on flying out of the drone’s weapon range. An eternity passes and I make it out of range for a second and allow myself a moment to think.
If only I can locate the host brain for the drones maybe I could slow them up enough to escape or defeat them. I run an analytical subroutine through my mind and pour in the ships sensor data and scan the pirate rock, no AI present. Most interesting, the base has no life at all. Why would the drones attack pirates? I notice thirty seven drones in various conditions most with damage of some kind surrounding me and the rock and… Jackpot! A drone control boat. 70 km away, I roll Memphis over and set full speed for intercept. The drones follow behind me hissing at me with venomous lead. I take more shots on my well chewed armor and hope my repair module can keep up until I can sack the host.
Before I reach optimal weapons range a lucky shot shorts out my afterburner. “Well, I’ve waited enough” I say to myself and open fire on the drone boat. I reach optimal and begin to circle her, Hoping I can do enough damage before her drones reach me and blow me away. I circle her once, twice and then my guns finally show results, the ship turns tail and begins to align for a warp out. My guns pound through armor and hull straight to the bone. The ship cracks like an egg and then is no more. I imagine her screams and tears shed as she faces her doom. The drones go crazy, some warp away, some explode, and they attack each other, but most go dead. I relax as the computer tries to calm my adrenaline levels.
Exhausted, I scan the drone boat and mark it’s location for salvage. I pop back over to Addax take a complete scan of the destroyed pirate base. The drones really did a number on this rock. The computer takes enough sensor data to make my employers happy and then I set a course for home.
The computer engages and barks: “Warp drive active”.
