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Chapter 6 - Salvage[]
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Space Wrestling[]
08/26/3046 Location: Space, Togura VII, Draconis Combine
Two shirtless tattooed figures held onto cargo netting with bare hands within the unfinished galley of some spacecraft in the midst of microgravity. A mural of a donkey wearing a space helmet and propelled by ‘gas’ from its rear was painted on the battered steel bulkhead behind them. On either side floating spectators shouted ”Tenir Fermement!” (Hang Tight) or “Mamorinuku!” (Hold Fast) to their preferred combatant as they kicked and became entangled in one another while ‘web wrestling.’
One of the spectators, a teen wearing a gray Masamori Mechanical Services jumpsuit, shook his fist at the center. “Come on, Frank. Finish him!”
Another one wearing a tan Alpheratz Executors Orbiball jersey yelled back. “Yoke the Yak, Rogan! I got money on you.”
The fighter with less ink grappled the irezumi Yakuza with his legs translating hand over hand through the space between them. Cheers erupted from the crowd as they neared. He drew back a fist to punch forward firmly mounted in a three-point stance. Still Franklin stayed, watching the first intently, but making no move to block.
As the Outworlder drew back Franklin pushed off with all his upper body strength to wrap his feet into the cargo netting. Reversing their positions in a pseudo-suplex of which he had the superior bracing position.
Rogan’s hand slipped as his center and trim shifted in microgravity leaving his head dangerously exposed. Franklin wrapped an arm around the man’s head and used the other to break the leg grapple and rotate him into a head-to-head position.
With control of Rogan’s neck and his feet ‘grounded’ Franklin had the superior mount. He pushed Rogan out toward the opposite wall (‘down’) where he settled in a crouch looking up at his opponent.
Metal ration coins were exchanged between the betters. “You win this time, Franklin. Pity most of your crew can’t even drink legally in the Outworlds.”
They both slipped their shirts back on and rolled the jumpsuit back to its normal position. “Good thing we are in Combine space then.”
Rogan gestured to the crowds. “You can drink your winnings after your shift. Get back out there and keep at it! That Nebula isn’t going to bring itself out of mothballs.”
Browbeaten spacers pushed off and out of the galley closing the door behind them to leave two figures within its volume. They both slung part of their tabis into one of the many recessed holds set into the Burro dropship’s walls. “You’ve been practicing.”
Franklin did a quick core circle. “It’s all in the hips and back. I spent a lot of time working on it.”
The lights dimmed and an off-white portion of the wall lit up with a projected image of outside. Togura VIIc’s icy surface reflected a portion of the yellow giant primaries light up to a tangle of cables and ablated metallo-textiles surrounding the distinct profile of a Nebula (Merchant) Jumpship.
“Your special port workout is all too familiar to me friend.”
Captain Rogan slipped over to the stainless metal galley table pulling two reusable metal cylinders out. “DCPA Chief Engineer and Orbital Salvage certified. Between Isesaki and the Guild you could write your own meal ticket. Or hell, strike out on your own. Stellar Trek is desperate for cash. We could make a fortune together.”
Both paused to take a drought of the pressurized beer inside. It lacked most of the finer qualities of an ale, but that was just the nature of spacer life. “It would be boring. Smuggling is much more exciting and profitable. Plus I’d miss the port life and my group.”
“Hard to believe that. You’ve lived almost your entire life on a dropship.” he commented
“People change.” Franklin told him.
“Isn’t that the truth. Did you ever tell those…what was it…Bosozokos? About that Rumspringa around Rushaven?”
Franklin almost choked on his beer and had to slurp up the bubbling spheres that got loose. “No.”
Laughter filled the room. “Hey it was my first time ever. Hadn’t even tried it on the ground yet. We hadn’t had that talk yet.”
His eyes grew darkly serious. “If you tell them I will ensure that you have an unfortunate incident at some time in the near future that will never be traced to me.”
“Your embarrassing stories are safe with me. I expect reciprocity.”
“Well I already told them about Al’Nair.”
Rogan stopped for a moment. “That’s fine. I was very closely investigating the Azami culture.”
“Breaking into a harem and almost getting spaced doesn’t count.”, Franklin commented to him
“Maybe to you. Unlike you it wasn’t my first time.” Rogan replied
Salvage in Orbit[]
09/01/3046 Location: Orbit - Togura VIIc, Draconis Combine
Nebula hulk #45-2778-AA drifted soundless living between a world of light and shadow as it orbited the icy moon of Togura VIIc. Like a bloated yet reverse tick the Burro Salvage Tug, OAS Reclaimer 4's attached itself to the hulk providing essential utilities and life for the salvage teams.
Traveling across metal cables crisscrossing the fuselage Franklin kept his hands on the reel controls of his OHM Sutākurīchā. A readout assured him that the cable's tension on the electronically actuated reel was within safety limits. The headset built into his helmet's softcap buzzed to life. “Beats zipping on our own.”
He looked through his helmet at the Sutak's display showing a trio of secured Bosos in their shiny new engineering space suits which had arrived with them last week. His own was modded with everything precisely where he wanted it. “You can go much faster in that suit than using a Sutak. ESS suits have their own transfer reel.”
“I'm good. Only done a few EVAs at academy. Still getting used to it.”
“I'll get you if you fall off.”
“Which I appreciate, but would not like to test.”
“The most hazardous part is the initial cable coil. Which the Outworlders have politely done for us.”
“Just how did the UOC start before you showed up a month ago? Aren't they using your salvage credentials?”
“Rogan tapped me to file the paperwork for Port Authority bureaucrats after the UOC won Stellar Trek's auction. He and I go back a long time.”
“Do you think the Jiris know we are here?”
“Don't know. I do know that at least we will see them coming if they find out.”
They reached the work zone where thin armor sheets shaped to repair the docking collar were stacked atop a cable sledge. The Sutak's arms held the heavy objects into position carefully welding them to the frame.
His student's watched carefully as the exoskeleton's tools switched through a revolving arrangement until the plasma welding torch lit up. Bright white sparks illuminated the ESS and darkened collar junction. In the enclosed but unsealed cockpit Franklin watched filtered video on the display as he moved his suit's waldos, which were slaved to the exoskeleton's.
“How did you get that good?”
“Practice.”
“A Sutak is just a very tiny IndustrialMech that runs on batteries, really big batteries, the kind that run a Support PPC.”
“I even have a small neural band built into my soft-cap controlling the RCS thrusters just like a gyro.”
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Komoto Medium 'Mech
“Can't wait to see what you can do with that Komodo.”
“Me too. To bad it doesn't have any space for re-mass or I'd practice with it more. I've only utilized the internal simulator and tutorial. At least it looks pretty handsome in the Mech Bay.
Once you get the hang of the suit in micro-gravity I'll let you float around in it for a shift.”
A text alert from Captain Rogan appeared on their HUD's. 'Everyone inside. Meeting in Galley. Danger approaching.'
“What could that be for?”
“I don't know but if the Captain wants in then we should go. Secure the sledge and clip on to me.”
Franklin, Arrow, Esper, and the others finished up leaving the Sutak and their work in one of the small craft bays next to the damaged docking collar. Their helmets were secured in satchels to keep them safe and secure while clipped to the suit's harness. The backpack left bare as users couldn't reach back that far and to provide mounting for thruster packs. A variety of electric and mechanical tools, D-rings, carabiners, cable reels, and no fewer than three straps for security while conducting spacewalks. All of which floated around them as they translated through the white textile covered transfer tunnel and into the Reclaimer.
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Franklin looking out while in his EVA suit.
With slightly more than 50 active spacers even the expanded mess deck of the Reclaimer could barely accommodate them. Tan and gray jump-suited spacers held onto the cargo net beneath them as the room grew increasingly hot. Captain Rogan stood in front of the display screen steadying himself on the net below. “Twenty minutes ago we spotted and hailed this.”
On the screen a stock image of a DragonStar Smallcraft in PAST livery appeared. “At least that is what they said they are when they requested Mr Sakamoto. Unfortunately they were not broadcasting a beacon signal until after we hailed them.”
All eyes moved to Franklin. “PAST is totally by the book they would have broadcast their beacon proudly and put an administrative lock on this ship. They wouldn't try to sneak up on us.”
“I surmised as much considering how much paperwork I have to submit to the Port Authority. Sneaking up on a regular freighter might work but this ship is an Outworlds flagged vessel with all manner of sensors. So we caught them with time to spare and surprise on our side.”
A holographic display marking Togura VIIc, the Reclaimer, 45-2778-AA, surrounding objects, and PAST-3046-876's present trajectory and velocity appeared before them. “Although time is short. At their present deceleration we expect they will be upon us with two or three hours. Too fast to request a DCA vessel to intercept.”
Esper, the youngest and one of the few girls on Franklin's crew looked scared although she was quickly reassured by Jerri. “We don't have any weapons. What will we do?”
Rogan and Franklin laughed alongside Shan, Tuyen, and the other Outworld officers. Franklin was first to regain his composure. “Its only their first salvage op, Rogan.
Esper open the cam beneath your feet. Uni-key-D.”
She withdrew one of the universal keys that every member of the crew carried for maintenance purposes although D was not commonly used. Inside the void space 'below' the galley were a few polymer boxes marked with the Alliance Defenders Limited logo. Captain Rogan attached the ADL-45 extended cylinder revolver to a holster on his ESS's chest-plate. “Grab a box and a drink then meet us Cargo A. Ten minutes.”
Boarding Party[]
09/01/3046 Location: Orbit - Togura VIIc, Draconis Combine
Spindly legs extended from the bright yellow Dragonstar, the Yoshimatsu Chemical's Logo was illuminated in the amber colored running lights. 'Above' them the small craft bay's door closed in silence but inside Yosuke's crew felt the thud as it reverberated through the legs into them. Air returned to the chamber and with it the electronic noise of the spheroid's ramp like a tongue to rest just above the bare metal 'floor.'
“Get me an atmo read.”
A Silverfish, so called due to their reflective metallo-textile combat grade space suits, accessed the airlock's panel.
“Five twenty millibar, sixty forty N/O mix. Outworld's standard.”
Yosuke latched the breathing mask on before donning a soft cap and helmet over a tattooed scalp. The others mirrored his actions. “Keep your helmets on Silvers. Air's breathable for now, but that could change.”
Thirty individuals gingerly pushed off letting small jets of cold gas from their thruster packs shift them into position. Their helmet and gun-lights illuminating each shadowed alcove in the darkened bay. “No welcoming committee, Chief.”
“That must mean we are unwelcome.”
Two of them took positions near the closed airlock which had a blinking yellow status light meaning it was in emergency override. “Maybe they intend to run away from us.”
“We can catch them. That Burro is unarmed, its Captain an already ran for a bunch of pacifists. They have not yet met real Warriors.”
“Hoah!”
A pair of Silvers engaged their entry tools to force the portal open with the help of another pair. “Eyes open.”
He leveled the SMG ensuring its cartridge bag didn't snare on the debris. “They could be hiding anywhere.”
Inside the Nebula, Franklin manned his post, Sunbeam laser rifle and its attached grenade launcher, at the ready. His face puckered as he sucked on the attached energy gel pack within his helmet. Lemon flavored based on user taste and to prevent scurvy. As he caught sight of the enemy his face turned to a hardened grimace. “Fujio hired the Silverfish. I'm honored.”
“Everyone, our enemy is the Saar Silverfish. Not some random Yaks. They're the former Third Ghost, keep frosty.”
Rogan came in on his personal channel. “I've heard of these guys. Should we cut and run?”
“No. They'll run us down before that DCA patrol ship already en route can get to us. The Sutaks can still overpower them.”
“You have a lot of trust in Tuyen and Shan.”
“They've earned it.
Rogan, pull your squads back to their fallback positions. They'll take us apart right now.”
Franklin cycled through the POV cameras of the squad leaders. Each hustled through the darkened corridors engaging traps as they passed.
Yosuke passed through a cargo bay stacked with ergonomic units marked with suppliers from all over the Draconis Combine and Outworlds Alliance. A confounding maze that seemed tailor made to confound his suit's sensors. The Silverfish's atmospheric sensors went into overdrive as the atmospheric pressure began to drop. They tabbed buttons on their gauntlet computers to silence the alarms. “No surprise there. All teams check in. I expect contact soon.”
Cold gas thrusters fired in tandem as the Silverfish cleared the cargo bay. Two of them exploded throwing their operators into the unyielding metal of a MEU. Canisters fell from 'above' creating spherical clouds of gray smoke in their midst. Yosuke brought his thermal sight up and found his LOS blocked. “Thermal smoke. Hit steel!”
Bullets created whorls through the smoke aimed for the thruster packs. Silverfish fired their sub-machine guns through their legs at unseen foes. Kicking off the plates and using the limited thrust from their weapons to clear the smoke. They spun in microgravity using their core muscles rather than gas thrusters. Enemies above them used narrow gaps between containers for cover.
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Silverfish's Combat Space Suits, beginning to board the Nebula / Merchant Jumpship wreck.
Orange fire flew from the barrel lighting up the pitch black with rapidly fading spheres. 10mm Armor Piercing rounds punched through containers burying themselves into the rugged impact armor of the Engineering Space Suits.
The Silverfish that suffered a thruster failure leaned against the walls of a Ibuki Robotics container. “COD Internal decapitation.”
Unseen through the breathing mask and armored face-plate Yosuke grimaced at the amateur's success. The flashlight under his barrel pointed toward the enemy's last known location. “Police their gear...”
Within the silent oily darkness of another cargo bay two Sutaks held bolted together armor panels before them like great segmented riot shields. Their three fingered claws gripped scrap steel handles as they slowly jetted about the bay.
Beside him Black Dragons leaned out from behind the shield holding onto handholds. They fired revolvers and cruiser shotguns at Silverfish espatiers moving amid the open volume under automatic weapons fire.
Shan looked through a roughly laser cut vision port through the Sutak's own cage-like cockpit. His eyes and the exoskeletons' sensors searched for intermediate but persistent gun shots and an opportunity to force the boarders out of the ship.
“Keep up the pressure. They are running out of ground.”
Elsewhere the world was calm yet illuminated in faint right light, glow stripes attached to the CSS provided the general profile of Yosuke's troopers. They immediately halted as he signaled a caution another junction, another possibility for ambushes or traps. Their magnetic tabi boots held them to the ‘floor’ where strips of ferrous metals were installed for that particular purpose.
The point-man worked over-sized controls on his stock adjusting the sub-machine gun. A thermal scope attached to the unit looked around the corner. Residual heat and an IR emitter allowed him to see a large open room with two long tables.
“Galley. No contacts.”
Yosuke pointed to one of his operators. “Check it out.”
He pushed off the wall floated through the passage, moving his helmets carefully to search for ambushes while maintaining trim. Metal tabletops held magnetic bottles common in any spacecraft atop them. The galley showed no signs of activity which made him grow increasingly suspicious.
A bright noiseless flash, a magnetically attached pipe bomb, sent out concentrated shrapnel at incredible velocities. Shards of metal embedded themselves into the warm flesh beneath the silvered spacesuit through gaps.
Through the radio Yosuke and his team heard the injured Silverfish gritting through pain as shrapnel cut into him as he impacted the wall driven as he was from the table's mass. His squad-mates returned fire as their prey tried to take advantage of his lack of cover. The cable attached to his back allowed squad-mates to pull him out of danger as bullets began to fly.
Yosuke leaned out laying down cover fire with his SMG keeping a hand on the corner to control recoil. A lucky shot passed through the JumpShip's light structure and into his suit's articulated carapace. He felt a hammer blow across his chest that knocked the air out of him.
Silverfish casualties were mounting as it became apparent his foes were better armed and more cunning than anticipated. He checked the time counting down in his HUD. The DCA gunship's interception time was shorter than anticipated due to early detection and despite it being an Outworlds flagged vessel.
His men tended their squaddies' suit with adhesive patches. Fingers ran over the gauntlet computer activating motion override as integrated med-packs took effect. Others looped the cable around him for transport back to shuttle.
Between the evasive and prepared defenders he had five dead and half dozen injured. Injuries were dangerous situations needing immediate attention and reduced acceleration to mend.
“They're wasting time. Fujio's money isn't worth this...Silverfish head back to the Dragonstar.” Silverfish leader ordered
Back in the cargo bay the Sutaks stopped their press as the Silverfish withdrew and reports of them disengaging propagated on their comm-net. Shan's squad shook their fists and jeered at the retreating Silverfish.
Franklin floated up from Engineering as the Sutaks secured themselves to their appropriate anchors inside the cargo bay locking the myomer actuated vehicles to the Jumpship's structure. He saw that Esper and the others faces had turned from fear to elation at their apparent victory. Pistols pointed 'up' but were not fired. Fortunately they had learned some discipline.
“We did it! We fought them off.” some cheered
Captain Rogan's voice came in over the comm-net. <<“The Dragonstar is accelerating away at one point two gee. By current heading it looks like they are trying to slingshot around Seven.
<<DCA is inbound within forty two minutes. No one talk to them before I do.>>
<<All crew are to hand over the guns to Hogan then inspect the jumpship for damage or sabotage.>>
<<If anything important is broken I'm counting it against your tab, Franklin.”>> Captain Rogan radioed
“The scales will come into balance one of these days, Rogan.” responded Franklin
Franklin then radioed his crew <<“What a dark day that would be. Back to work everybody.”>>
Esper and Jerri started with the galley finding it a mess. Shrapnel and larger impacts caused by the remotely operated pipe bomb in addition to armor piercing bullets had severely damaged the fuselage to the point where it looked more like a cheese grater than spacecraft. It was going to be a bitch to fix. “Where's Arrow?”
They searched throughout the corridors finding the rigging set up to draw Arrow and Herrin to their fallback positions. Red frosty flecks in the corridor caused them to hasten their efforts. Esper saw the motionless forms of her friend and fellow crew-member floating motionless against the wall. Crimson ice sealed the suit like fresh scabs.
Jerri arrived right behind her as she drifted toward one of the forms placing her hands over the helmet's face-plate. <<“Don't open it!”>>
Franklin heard her anguished wail over the comm-net before he muted her to all but himself and nearby techs like Jerri. He rushed up to the galley reporting to Rogan that he would resolve the situation before the DCA arrived.
At that location he found Jerri holding her away from the still warm corpse of their friend.
“I'm sorry, Esper. I thought it would be safe here for everyone. Make some money, count it against your apprentice time, and head back to Masamori.” Franklin told her
“They were hunting you, and Arrow died because of it.” Esper told him
“He knew the risks. I was very clear in what I do.” Franklin stated
“Was there really a choice? He was only fifteen.” she told him in anglish
“And I was six when I made mine.”
“I hate you. I want to go back to Hachiman and away from you.” she angrily told him.
“We will leave with the next resupply shuttle. If they found me here better I face them there.”
Dark Choices[]
09/13/3046 - Location: Srinager, Hachiman
Fujio knelt in front of a low wooden table in some mostly automated warehouse. Robotic forklifts raced along clearly marked paths below. Eisuke Jirigawa, president of the Syndicate Eisuke loomed large above him. Gray haired senior leaders surrounded him, each one looking increasingly stern.
“You have failed utterly, Fujio. Losing our cargo, drawing heat from the MiPS, and once more failing to settle the scales. The Jirigawas have been set back years due to your adolescent and destructive feud with Franklin Sakamoto, caused by a girl of all things.
I would normally not give you a choice but I have chosen to in this instance. Since you are already banished and disowned will you be a coward as well or face the full consequences of your actions.”
He drew a Nagamaki, a long blade and handle used traditionally as an anti-cavalry weapon, from a sheath carried by a younger lieutenant. “So the choice is yours.“
“Hand
or
Head?”
Hachiman Police Report[]
Case File# Hachiman-MMP-30460627-826705
Investigation into Ibuki Robotics Chief Sales Representative Uchida Kinoku
Filed by Constable Miya Kibo, Murasaki Metropolitan Police
Due to interference from the Jirigawa Yakuza Syndicate I was not able to bring Mrs. Uchida in for questioning nor confirm any of our suspicions regarding her vulnerability to Sokaiya. Now that she is off world the MMP cannot pursue further investigation. We will forward this report and associated material to Oshika Prefectural Investigators.
A POI, Franklin Sakamoto, was identified during the encounter from headshots in the database. According to Yoshitune Starport records Mr. Sakamoto departed for Togura VIIc three days after the incident in the Neon Arcade district. According to DCPA records he left with his apprentices and a work crew from Masamori Mechanical Services (MMS). They boarded the Unity Freighter DCCS Kwaidon, presently end routed to Al’Nair with a cargo of electrical and computer equipment, according to the manifest.
MMS upon deeper investigation is a sub-contractor/franchisee of Isesaki Shipping owned by Rentaro Sakamoto. Its assets are relatively concentrated in Masamori with leased workshop space and IndustrialMechs around High-5 neighborhood. Mms has majority ownership of two Hana (K-1) dropshuttles and a Hoshiryokou salvage DropShip. The DCCS Nagira is presently operating in the Proserpina system as an inter-planetary transport. Both Hana shuttles have been rented by the United Outworlder’s Corporation as transports for ongoing salvage operations in the Togura system.
Rentaro and Franklin Sakamoto’s records as well as those of MMS are clean within Combine space. However there are a number of former criminals on the employee database, and we have no access to their histories as Free Traders outside Combine space. Requests for personnel historical records from Isesaki Shipping have produced no new or relevant information.
Despite my suspicions there is not enough evidence to implicate any parties besides the Jirigawa batmen, for assaulting security officers, in criminal activity.
Case Closed
MK