OOC:

This was the big bounty story I did for the RHA before Aeos had to go on leave. I don't know what's going on with that, so I thought I would just post it up here anyway. Not too bothered about the money anymore.

I'm rather proud of the story myself. It's based on a scene from Iain. M. Banks' 'Use of Weapons' novel. Those of you who have read that book should be able to recognise it, and give feedback.

Even if you haven't read it, general feedback would be appreciated because I was trying something very different with this story. The bountry specifics were:

Bounty: 550 000
Level:  2
Name:  Crewman Dastu Werstén
Details: Imperial Pilot deserter wanted for mutiny against his squadron during a mission on Cepany. Deliver to RHA or the nearest VE Imperial Outpost.

Enjoy

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“So... why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Ibram asked the rock.

The officer and pilot had recently decided that the rock was, in fact, the centre of the universe. He could prove it as well, although the rock seemed to be ignoring its obvious importance in the grand scheme of things. Shame.

He tried nudging the rock, shifting it. Forcing things to a head often made people face the reality of their situation.

“Don’t do that,” the rock sighed. “You don’t want to face the reality of your situation.”

That made Ibram pause, just what was his situation?

He looked back at the rock, and then looked around him. He noticed a man lying near them.

The man...

He’d forgotten about the man. The man who had blood on the side of his head. Ibram thought he really should take better care of himself; blood was a pain to wash out, after all.

But it was the rock that really mattered. Ibram tried to pick it up with his arms, only to discover that one of his arms wasn’t listening to him today. Why was that?

“Why won’t my arm move, rock?” He said.

“Beats me,” it replied.

All Ibram could remember was that it had something to do with the man...

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“Viper’s sound off,” Ibram spoke quietly into his microphone.

He was getting restless from all the waiting, and typically a roll call was the most interesting thing he could think of to pass the time.

The four fighters hung in space like debris amongst the other miscellaneous junk and trash that made up Space Depository 3A-C. Ibram had been contacted by one of the locally based fighter patrols to help them catch a smuggling cartel that they believed used the depository as stash for illegal goods, which would be picked up by the dealer when they next came to the dump. Unfortunately, manpower being what it was, the patrol couldn’t handle it by themselves, so they asked Viper squadron for assistance.

Ibram had taken Cadie, Dagger and Cali along with him to help catch the smugglers, but he was already regretting agreeing to the request. Stake outs were so boring...

He looked over the four fighters from the local SDF. Older TIE starfighter variants, not unlike the ones Viper had been flying before high command had awarded them with the upgraded TIE Inteceptors.

“One, this is Two, you got a minute?”

Ibram came out of his revere as Cadie’s message came over the secure channel.

“What have you got two?” He said.

“I’m picking up a lot of chatter between Alpha 1 and Alpha 4.”

The 4 SDF fighters had chosen Alpha designations for this little op. Ibram had remembered thinking that they all really needed to get out more.

“What are they saying?”

“I’m not sure,” Cadies replied. “They’re speaking some sort of local dialect that I’m not familiar with. Four sounds really agitated though.”

“I’ll look into it, thanks two.” Ibram clicked off, and then opened a secure channel to Alpha One.

“Alpha, this is Viper, everything ok over there?”

“...Yes Viper, everything is fine.”

“Apparently there’s a lot of chatter between you and one of your pilots, everything under control?”

“Yes Viper, everything is fine. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eavesdrop on us.” And with that, Alpha One closed the connection.

Touchy git, Ibram thought.

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No, that wasn’t it... there was another man...

Ibram shook his head as he tried to remember what happened, but it just made his head hurt. He didn’t see why people were so eager to think all the time.

He sat back up and looked around him. There was something profoundly wrong about his situation. Setting aside the fact that he appeared to be stranded on an island with a strange man, there was just something... off about everything.

He looked again the rock.

“There’s something wrong with you, rock,” he said.

The rock just stared back at him.

There was something wrong with the man too, although he wasn’t sure what. He appeared to be dressed in some sort of black suit, although a lot of it was torn, worn, or just plain missing. Ibram crawled over to get a better look at him.

However it wasn’t until he reached out with his good arm that he realised something new.

We’re wearing the same clothes, he thought to himself as he looked down at his own body, and back at the man.

“No shit,” said the rock.

Ibram glared back at it. He really would have to do something about that cheeky inanimate piece of sediment.

A bird glided down silently and sat on the rock. Ibram watched it for a bit, entranced by its shape, its white skin, and the wings that folded upwards when it landed on the ground...

As quick as it had come, the bird suddenly took off, soaring high in the sky and out of view. Ibram had a feeling that this was important somehow. Not as important as the rock mind, but still important...

Maybe it’s flying back to its nest...

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“Viper, this is Alpha, target has entered the nest.”

Ibram awoke from his nap as the proximity alarm went off at the same time as Alpha’s message arrived. He was ready for action in an instant, making sure his Interceptor was combat ready.

“Ok Vipers, it's show time. Make ready.”

Ibram tried checking his scanners to see if he could get a profile on the new arrivals, but the debris field, consisting mostly of degraded electronics equipment, was screwing things up. They had set up a discreet beacon at the entrance to the field that would send a short pulse wave when a ship appeared, but any more then that would risk alerting them to their presence.

When he was satisfied that his pilots were ready and in position, he sent a signal over to Alpha. It was their show, after all.

“Alpha, Viper, we’re all ready here. What’s the plan?”

“Viper, we’ll wait until we have a visual, and the drop has been confirmed. Then we’ll move in and apprehend. We’ve got a few Patrol Boats on standby ready to jump in and lend a hand.”

“Roger that Alpha, Viper out.”

Ibram sat back. It felt good to finally be getting into some action. Some good clean action. No sneaking around like they had to do during Operation: Indigo.

It wasn’t long before their target came into sight. It was an old YT-series freighter, even older then the fabled Millennium Falcon, although Ibram wasn’t actually sure how old that  particular ship actually was. Still, it didn’t look like it would put up too much of a fight. The two gunboats that were accompanying it however, looked very formidable.

“Viper, Alpha. We need you to take out the gunboats, we’ll try to help, but they far out-strip our capabilities. We’ll make sure the freighter stays put.”

“Roger Alpha, Viper out,” Ibram said.

He flexed his fingers and brought his systems slowly online. This needed to be swift and deadly if it was going to work. Whilst he was sure the four of them could take on two gunboats, it wouldn’t be easy, and the longer they remained operational the more at risk Alpha group would be. He opened a channel to the others.

“Right Vipers, here’s the situation. We’re dealing with an old YT-series freighter. Nothing special, however it’s got two gunboats for escorts. We’re going to go in hard and fast and take them out whilst the Alpha boys apprehend the freighter. Dagger, Cali, you’ll take the portside boat, me and Cadie will take the other.”

There was a chorus of affirmatives over the squadron channel, and looking out the viewport Ibram could see his wingmate's fighters slowly coming to life.

“On my mark,” he said. “Three, two, one... go!”

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“Moving stuff with one hand is hard,” he told the rock, even though it had stopped talking to him some time ago.

Having given up trying to convince the big lump of its importance, he instead walked, or rather, crawled around a bit to explore his little patch of land that was surrounded by water. He found lots of things strewn about the place; things which he knew weren’t supposed to be there, although he couldn’t remember why.

Oh well, he had thought to himself. If I’m going to stay here, might as well make myself useful.

“Good plan,” said the rock, after which it stopped talking altogether.

Ibram put down the latest handful of debris he had picked up from the beach around him, setting them beside the rock with the rest of the things he had picked. He decided to sift through them, just to see what was there. Perhaps something would jog his memory...

The man was still there, and still had blood on his face, but Ibram couldn’t remember why or who he was, no matter how hard he tried. Which was pretty damn hard.

Cadie? No... That was a woman... a very nice woman...

Ibram moved some more things about, placing a rather large log next to the rock, making it stick out like an arm. He found another such log and did the same. He wished he could just attach more limbs like he was doing do this rock.

“Are you Dagger?” He said out loud, although it was mainly directed at the man. There was no reply either way, so Ibram took that as a no.

Ibram gave up and collapsed on the ground. He felt really tired, and he had a nagging feeling that it had something to do with the hole in his leg. There was blood there too. He lay back on his back and looked up at the sky.

“Mutiny,” he said.

The sky looked back down on him with pity.

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Well, this is going well, Ibram thought, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

No sooner had Vipers broke cover then the gunboats started blazing away at the debris field. Something must have tipped them off that the imperials had been hiding out there, because Ibram had barely started his engines when a laser blast tore through the space he had just occupied.

“Frak!” He had said. “Vipers, break break, get clear and engage.”

It was now five minutes later, and things weren’t looking good. Dagger had been damaged whilst leaving the debris field, and was now floating out in space somewhere with the rest of the trash. Her emergency transponder was still working though, so at least she was still alive. Which was more then what could be said for Alpha two: he had been vaporised completely before his engines had even been turned on.

Ibram had managed to damage the freighter on his first pass, but now the two gunboats had taken up stations either side of it, effectively putting up a wall of fire that was proving difficult to break through.

“Alpha, Viper. I think you better call in that patrol boat. Maybe it will distract them enough so that we can take one of them down. That freighter won’t stay damaged forever.”

“Roger Viper, will call in the boat now- Alpha Four! Stay in position! Alpha four!? WERSTEN!!!??”

Ibram looked up in confusion, and saw the fighter designated Alpha four making full speed towards Cepany’s atmosphere.

“Alpha, this is Viper, what’s going on?”

Ibram heard Alpha leader curse before he answered.

“Alpha four has had some kind of psychotic break... he’s abandoned his post.”

Ibram thought back to the high levels of chatter Cadie had picked up earlier. The two events must have been related.

“I’ll bring him back,” He told Alpha one. “I’ll be able to catch up to him faster in my Interceptor.”

“Ensign I must insist, he’s one of ours-" But Ibram cut him off.

“You have a job to do Alpha One, so do it. I’ll deal with the deserter. Now, I won’t be able to chase after him until we deal with these gunboats, so call the code. Now.”

“...yes sir. Alpha One, out.”

He brought is fighter around in a slow arch, preparing the engines for a quick dash so he could take out the gunboats before chasing after the deserter...

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Ibram paused what he was doing, a big smile on his face.

Wersten, that was it...

Names were very important to Ibram. Names, places, symbols... they had meaning. Meaning lead to understanding, and good things came out of understanding. Perhaps if he understood how he got here, he would be rescued.

Yes, that must be it... this is all a test... have to keep moving... keep working...

He wondered how much he would get paid for his new little project. He was working overtime, after all...

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“Crewman Werstén, you will return to formation immediately, that’s an order.”

Ibram cursed as he chased Wersten’s fighter through the atmosphere of Cepany. ‘Chased’ was a bit of stretch, as even with his head start, Ibram caught up to the rogue pilot just as he had hit the atmosphere. Unfortunately, the man wouldn’t listen to him, and definitely didn’t want to come back with him to central command.

Ibram’s patience was starting to run out.

“Come in Wersten, do you read? Get back into formation and accompany me to HQ, this is desertion damn it! Respond.”

There was a hiss of static, and I kind of warbled scream which Ibram guessed was Wersten. He appeared to be sobbing.

Crap, he thought. And I thought Rutian was bad. I can only handle one nutjob at a time.

He quickly surveyed where they were, as he hadn’t really been paying attention whilst trying to get Wersten to listen to him. They appeared to be over one of Cepany’s oceans, miles away from the nearest crystal city. He’d have to think on his feet.

Frak it, he decided eventually. I’ll just shoot him down and have the rescue guys pick him up.

He was thinking how best to make the guy crash relatively safely when he received an audio package over the long range communications net. He barely had time to wonder who on earth would be sending him communication packets in the middle of an op when the audio started playing by itself.

“Mr Tyrol,” A calm and rather suave sounding female voice spoke.

“We’re sorry to bother you during what I’m sure is an important operation, but we have some news for you that you might be interested in.”

Ibram couldn’t find a way of shutting off the recording, so he had no choice but to listen to it whilst keeping an eye on Wersten.

“We understand that you’re currently tailing a deserter named Dastu Wersten. Well you’ll be pleased to hear that the paperwork has already gone through, and there’s now a bounty on his head, for a rather considerable reward as well. Since we were so impressed with the work you did for us last time, we thought we would give you a chance at... ‘First dibs’, as they say. If you manage to capture him, we’ll wire the funds to your account as usual. Have a nice day, and watch out for those storm clouds ahead.”

Ibram couldn’t help but laugh at the surreal-ness of it all. The woman was from the frakking bounty hunters agency he had encountered on Tadath’s moon, he was sure of it. And now they were offering him more ‘work’... on someone who hadn’t even been reported yet. Whoever these guys were, they had pull.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed that there was in fact a storm cloud ahead. Despite being completely bonkers, Wersten must have had enough sanity left to realise that he could lose Ibram in the clouds. That didn’t leave him much time.

Right, he thought to himself. Time to end this.

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Ibram felt good. Well... light headed technically, but good none-the-less. He had finished his work and he could finally just sit back and relax. The rock seemed to appreciate its new surroundings as well, and Ibram hoped it finally understood its place, its destiny.

The man groaned.

For, what the rock failed to understand was that, whilst it was just a rock, sitting on an island, that island was like a rock sitting in the sea. That sea in turn sat on the surface on the planet like rock, and the planet sat like an island within the sea of the local system (Royalty? Regent?), which in turn sat like a rock on the island that is the local cluster, which sat upon the sea of the galaxy, which was like an island on the sea of the universe, then through to the continuum, reality itself, etc...

The man groaned again, and tried to get up.

But back down through reality, the continuum, the universe... down through the galaxy, the cluster, the system, the planet, the sea, the island... the rock remained! Which meant this rock... THIS STUPID LARGE ROCK THAT WAS A BITCH TO MOVE IS THE CENTRE OF THE FRAKKING UNIVERSE!

The man almost got to his feet, before he was whacked over the head by a large stick. Ibram stood over the man, stick in hand, swaying slightly as he thought he really should have hit the man on the other side of his head, just to even things up. He shuffled back the rock, carefully placing the stick back where he had put it before, jutting out from the rock with the other five.

His head started to spin as he sat down. Spinning was never good...

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Air. Lots of Air. Rushing, screaming, howling. It’s raining. Making everything slippery. Crawling slowly along a metal chassis. Need to get to the cockpit...

...Lightening flashes, and memories of the mid air collision come screaming back. Wings clipping, metal gets snagged. Two birds of prey locked together on in a never-ending spiral towards the howling abyss below. Death awaits unless...

... must get to the other cockpit. He can be saved. We can be saved. Must get him out before-

Crash.

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Light, some light... then blackness. There was paint everywhere, especially on his arm. His other arm was holding on to something. Something soft and squidgy. It appeared to be floating. He appeared to be floating. Why was he floating? He felt water all around him. Some of it slapped him in the face. He tried to laugh, but he passed out instead...

Light, some light. Shades of grey... how poignant. He noticed something bumping up against him. It appeared to be a man. Why is there a man there? Can he make the pain go away? It looked doubtful, the man wasn’t even conscious.

There was still water everywhere. That annoyed him. He didn’t like getting wet, it made his knees ache... especially when it was cold, and it was very cold. He thought he could see something in the distance, but then again he thought he saw a lot of things. He must be hallucinating from the crash.

The pain ebbed and flowed from his body, like the waves around him. Perhaps he was slipping back into unconsciousness... there we go...

Light, some light. (Hang on, I’ve been here before). He was no longer floating. He was lying on his back on solid ground, in what appeared to be a beach like area. The strange man that seemed to be attached to him was lying next to him, still unconscious.

He looked around, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings, although all he really felt like doing was passing out again. He noticed that there was a rock on the other side of the man.

Where am I? Ibram thought.

“No idea,” said the rock.

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They came for him eventually. They came in a giant white metal bird with wings that folded upwards as it landed. It nearly crushed Wersten as it came down, although Ibram couldn’t really bring himself to care. He did take interest however when the metal bird seemed to spill people from a hole in its belly.

“That’s just weird,” the rock commented.

“Tell me about it,” replied Ibram, who then feinted from blood loss.

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Peace returned to the little island after the Lambda-class shuttle left with Ensign Tyrol and the deserter known as Dastu Wersten. The rock was left behind, much to its relief. Hours later, a passing flock of migrating birds happened to pass by the land mass on its way to warmer climates. One of the birds, who if examined by a scientist would be labelled as one of the more intelligent of its species, noticed something different about the island. It wasn’t like the countless others they had passed on their journey, although the bird wasn’t smart enough to figure out why exactly. It was only a bird after all.

Anyone with a higher intelligence capacity would have seen the spherical pattern laid out on the surface of the island, with leaves forming the outer ring. They would also have noticed the 6 thick logs that went from the edge of the circle to the centre, where a rather larger spherical rock sat in the middle. It was the result of Ibram’s 'work’, although he was too far gone to fully appreciate what he was doing at the time. The rock did though.

However, it would take someone with an intelligence level of at least human-basic, as well as some knowledge of galactic history to realise that the symbol laid out on the island was the old Imperial Crest of Unity used by Palpatine’s Empire. However, all of this is a tad moot, because the symbol would only be visible from the air, like if you were in a search & rescue shuttle, for example...

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