Bitboat Blues Part I
Captains Log — 6
— The following Data excerpt was salvaged from a large cluster of floating debris and damaged satellites in the outer reaches of the unmapped and unruly High Risk Zone. In accordance with MUD Governance Code #32334, this information is highly classified. –
Log ID: 260196
Captains Log: 006
Enlisted Days: 23
ATLAS payload: 1785
Ship: VZUS Opod “The Shinobi”
Captains log: Consciousness seemed half a world away as the Shinobi’s silhouette came into view. I had squeezed all my remaining strength and concentration into holding down the Fimbul Airbike’s throttle, my bleeding right leg hanging limp and useless to the side, unable to operate the gears. It flapped miserably like an old, beaten flag. When I neared ten feet from the ship, I felt my eyelids grow impossibly heavy and my head reel in dizziness. I tumbled awkwardly out of my seat and didn’t prepare myself for any kind of landing. My shoddy Ieg crumpled under my torso and I fell flat on my back with a pained groan. I stared up at the stars for a moment, blinking down at me with their indifference, when I heard a gasp from somewhere behind me. Valster, maybe? I didn’t have time to see — my vision quivered and the stars blinked out, filling my eyes with darkness.
When I came to, Valster was standing over me, her face wrought with concern. She was saying something, but I couldn’t hear her over the Shinobi’s low hum. Slowly, the sounds blended and wooshed and something popped in my ears,
‘-she alive? Captain, do we go after her? Captain?’ Valster’s words rushed in and I felt my mind finally awaken. Nader sat slumped in a chair at the bedside, fast asleep with one hand resting on my good foot.
Foreman Derranis hovered over my other leg, though I couldn’t see, or feel for that matter, what he was doing.
‘She’s alive,’ I managed to croak, then gave Nader a weak kick with my free foot. His eyes shot open and he smiled immediately. He pounced forward and hugged me, which resulted in a spluttering of coughs.
‘Keep him still!’ growled Derranis.
‘What…are…you…doing…with my leg?’ I struggled to say, each word making me catch my breath.
‘Fixing it, captain. Believe it or not, these hands can maintain more than a cargo bay. My mother was a surgeon, y’know…’ and he trailed off, adjusting a MUD Mediscape with one hand whilst nimbly weaving stitches into my knee with the other.
‘She’s alive? What happened?’ asked Valster pedantically, and Nader stopped grinning.
It took me several minutes to recall everything that had transpired — Tet’s ambush, Cort’s hand shot to pieces, Tusk and her Busan rising from the canyon, the corporal being carried away, kicking and screaming — before I raggedly croaked the story into cohesion. When I was finished, Doctor Valster looked pale and Nader paced back and forth, wringing out his beard hurriedly with one hand.
‘The other airbike -’ I began to say, remembering the Fimbul Cort she had ridden, and how I’d left it a league from where she was taken.
‘Way ahead of you,’ said Nader, seeming to read my mind,
‘After you got back here and collapsed like a gasless star, Rune and I returned to the scene to try and piece this whole mess together. Nothing helpful really, just a bloody mess left behind. But the bike is intact, at least. Recorder unblemished, and running this whole time. We were just about to listen back, not knowing how long you would be out for…’ he trailed off as he procured the bike’s receiver component from his pocket and slipped into a nearby transponder.
Despite the fair stretch of distance between the airbike and the scene of the kidnapping, the airbike’s receiver had captured a surprisingly legible audiolog of what had transpired. Not bad for a Fimbul I thought as sound filled the room. These racers benefit from sound recorders that capture the most minute change in engine sound and other potential inefficiencies slowing lap time.
As the sounds of the previous evening replayed with eerie clarity, the crew’s faces contorted in deeper distress.
As the audiolog reached the moment of Tet’s ambush, my leg seized up with phantom recollection.
The whizzing of the M5 sounded just as sinister as it had in real-time, and I clenched my jaw anxiously and turned away when I heard it again.
‘Turn it off, we get the idea…’ started Derranis, watching my face wearily.
‘Wait. I don’t want to hear this any more than you do, but there could be more,’ I said through gritted teeth, hoping for something.
Valster stared at me the whole time, her face a clash of worry and suspicion. That quick brain of hers was turning over, trying to work out why both Tet and Tusk seemed to address me on familiar terms.
The audiolog had seemed to resolve into silence, Tusk’s Thrill of Life having had scraped off the ground and flown away and my airbike had left the scene when a clunking, crunching noise filled the speakers.
Footsteps.
I looked up to see Nader’s eyes wide.
The whole crew inched closer to the speaker
‘Who the hell -’, he started when a nasally voice cut through the audiolog.
‘No sign of Beaumond, or his crew,’ said the voice, between scrapes and rustles of metal. The voice’s owner seemed to be rummaging through the pod’s overturned bits.
‘The Calico’s blackbox is shredded to bits… Blood nearby, a fair bit. Blaster scars on the earth, not twenty minutes old…’ continued the voice, detective-like.
‘Two trails. One leads east, toward Strowineja. The other, bloodier, leads to…’, the voice trailed off as boots padded on earth.
‘Leads to empty earth near the canyon. A ship lay here, within the hour. Can smell the fumes. A fighter, judging by the size…’ the voice said before it heaved a long sigh.
‘Copy that, I’ll head east. I think someone’s gotten to Beaumond first, but I’ll scour the starport and report in. Keep me in the loop,’ finished the voice, and boots crunched gravel until they faded into silence. I shivered.
Tusk, and now this shadowy scavenger. A bounty hunter, I thought sullenly.
After the recording had ended, silence lay heavily about the room. I tried to fidget and stretch, but felt my body rigid with shock and pain. Derranis gravelly voice finally cut the stillness,
‘So what does Tusk want, specifically? We know she wants POLIS, and that’s doable. But it’s very unlikely her greed ends there. Who’s to say she gives Cort back after we live up to our side of the deal?’ he asked.
‘It’s not a deal, Rune,’ I said weakly, ‘more of a demand.’
‘How do you know a pirate like Tusk, captain? It seems she knows you, at the very least…’ said Valster with her eyes narrowed. Nader gave me a troubled look and I opened my mouth to explain when the comms suddenly rattled with feedback, a voice cutting through clear and sharp,
‘Captain Beaumond. Crewmates of the Shinobi. This is Captain Tusk,’
‘Shit,’ said the foreman, dropping something with a clatter, no doubt shaken that Tusk had hacked into our comms feed.
‘The recording… it must’ve given her access to the comms…’ Derranis muttered, hurrying to rip the airbike’s receiver component from the transponder.
‘Your corporal is alive and well. Tell them corporal,’ said Tusk, and a dull thud followed by a muffled grunt emanated from the comm speakers.
A moment later, Cort’s voice said shakily,
‘D-Don’t make deals with the devil, captain. Don’t trust this bi-,’ another dull thud and Cort groaned loudly.
‘If you hurt her, you’ll get nothing Tusk!’ I tried to shout, but it came out as a harsh whisper. Tusk chuckled.
‘The POLIS. The corporal for the POLIS, remember? In any case, you’ve done all the hard work Captain…’ said Tusk, feedback fizzing sinisterly behind her voice.
‘What’s she mean?’ asked Derranis, and it suddenly hit me.
‘The silly Captain’s award, the Bitboat ball…’ Nader said in a thin voice, almost to himself.
‘Correct, Lieutenant Nader. The captain is yet to receive his POLIS reward. Did you forget, captain? So busy tracking down distress signals…’ mocked Tusk, before continuing,
‘You’ll be attending the Freefaction Politik Ball after all, Beaumond, and as fate would have it, the Bitboat departs tomorrow night. Doctor, you’ll be joining him. Your… connections will come in handy. Apart from the POLIS, there’s some information I’ll need you to obtain,’
I cleared my throat to protest, to say it should only be me, but Valster lowered a hand on my shoulder gently and said assertively,
‘Whatever you need, so long as the corporal is returned safely.’
‘Good,’ said Tusk, as if receiving compliance from a pet.
‘You’ll be looking for a Commander Dwel Delfor. I think you know him rather well. Your father’s colleague, yes? Your…godfather?’
‘I know him,’ Valster said tersely.
‘He commands a Pearce C–11. I need to know how he’s managed to keep that thing afloat without a single toolkit for three months. This information is crucial, I need specifics.
Don’t worry doctor, he’ll talk. I hear his ego is too large for his class, like a Calico ATS Enforcer,’ said Tusk, matter-of-factly.
‘You’ll both maintain communication with me as the event unfolds. If everything goes without a hitch, I’ll receive my POLIS, and you’ll find your Corporal Cort in good knick, awaiting extraction at a predetermined location,’ said Tusk, sounding satisfied. The Shinobi suddenly felt cramped and stuffy, and my leg had finally woken up. It began to throb dully.
‘How can we trust your word?’ shot Derranis beneath gritted teeth.
‘Oh you cannot, foreman. You should not. But I trust the captain’s loyalty to his crew. He’d do anything for his crew, wouldn’t he? Place your trust in him, foreman, not me,’ said Tusk, before adding with mock-delight,
‘Doctor, captain… I hope you’re feeling boozy. I hear the Freefaction mob are a rowdy bunch.’
About the writer
A love for video-games has fuelled an extensive lore-writing project that has resulted in Daniel’s first published works, the “Captain’s Log” and “Distant Conversations” series. These ‘data logs’ are part of a collaboration with Star Dust Economy that aims to highlight the pioneering spirit being cultivated in the video-game, Star Atlas.
