P D Lee (hmnomad)
Early morning
Near a quiet system on the edge of Minmatar and Galante
space
In a dead space pocket within a nebula
There is a colony
To outsiders and tourists it looks just like any other
mining colony near Minmatar space.
Miners hollow out asteroids, harvesting ore. Manufacturing facilities produce ships and
rigs and modules and ship them to market.
Traders, gamblers, and two bit hustlers all come and go, making the most
of the facilities on offer. The strip
clubs and bars turning a brisk trade amongst space farers of every ilk. In
fact, nothing visible to the casual observer gives away the true reason the
colony exists.
The morning begins as normal. Mothers meet in the coffee shops while the
children are in school. Teenagers ditch
lessons to hang out in the shopping quarter.
First shift maintenance crews plod through the corridors on their way to their
next job while third shift personnel make their way to bars for a drink or home
to sleep.
Security staff expel hung over drunks from holding cells
while ships crews load and unload cargo, selling ore and buying
ammunition. Life followed the same
cycle, the same pattern of events as it does in colonies throughout known space. That is until the worm hole formed.
Those visitors lucky enough to be near their ships drop what
they are doing and immediately flee when the klaxon sounds. Some of them choose to take up arms and aid
the defence fleet. Mobilized in record
time, the defence fleet and colony security gunners reduce the first ships
through the worm hole to wreckage in a matter of moments. Unfortunately for the defenders the ships
keep coming and the tide begins to shift.
The arrival of reinforcements from the entrance corridor and patrol
fleet swing the odds back in favor of the defenders but that is short lived. The ex-Sansha carrier’s arrival destroys any
hope of repelling the invaders. With the
carrier’s ECM rendering long range weapons useless and its waves of logistics
ships and drones insuring their survivability, the invading fleet quickly
reclaims the upper hand.
While the space around the colony structures is a silent
light show of fire and destruction and death, inside was a cacophonous hive of
activity. Security teams and auxiliaries
are deployed to established defence locations, prepared to repel boarders and fight
to the last man. For everyone it is
action stations and they all have a part to play. Teachers and school administrators hurry the
children to shelters. A security detail
of elite mercenaries is deployed to protect them, defence of the children being
top priority. Essential personnel rush
to their duty stations while non essential personnel and family members seek
refuge in shelter locations. Station
gravity randomized and interior defence drones deployed the defenders settle in
to await their unwanted guests.
Their wait is not a long one. Wave after wave of assault craft and
breaching pods launch from the carrier and nimbly thread the carnage between
the carrier and the colony. Manually
controlled point defences and drones thin the numbers but not enough, significant
numbers still get through. The initial
fighting is intense, but all too soon the invaders gain first a foothold and
then the upper hand. Their stun grenades
and slave catcher drones making quick work of the defenders.
By lunch time it is all over bar the salvage. The colony is in flames and the last of the
children are being loaded into cargo containers in preparation for
transport. With the efficiency of army
ants the salvage crews strip almost everything of value. People, supplies, equipment, not even the
corpses are left behind. Everything has
value to someone.
The defence fleet made the pirate victory a costly one but
it was a victory none the less. The stolen
Sansha technology insured none of the invading force was destroyed by the outer
defences and no early warning systems were tripped. Surprise was total and the speed and
efficiency of the clean up was awe inspiring.
Concord responded but as is often the case they arrived just in time to
search for non-existent survivors and add the details of another wiped out
colony to their logs.
Unseen by concord, a flight of 3 cloaked ships enters the
pocket. Each ship with a task. The Buzzard hacks the Concord ships and
downloads the logs. The Cheetah scans
the remaining wreckage to identify the ships and their owners. And the Helios downloads the logs from the
colony’s tertiary data core and any live drones and sensor stations. Once the job is done they depart as unseen as
they arrived.
Meanwhile, in medical stations throughout New Eden, dozens
of angry pilots crawl from clone tanks demanding Neocom access. The markets see a corresponding surge in the
sales of ships, modules and ammunition.
Soon intelligence networks across all of lawless space have worked their
dark magic and that which has been taken is located.
On a fortified moon in TU-00T, the leader if the band of pirates
responsible for the raid inspects his livestock and contemplates which markets
will bring him the best prices. This
pleases him. He is proud of his
accomplishment; proud of his rise to power. From a penniless thug on a backwater Caldari
world to owner of 4 systems and dozens of outposts took him just 9 years. He feels on top of the world and loves the
rush of ‘getting his hands dirty’.
He says to his guards “the livestock alone will net us over 20
maybe 30 bil easy. The children are the
key, the Amarr like to get them young.”
His livestock is separated into 3 groups; men, women, and
children. The fittest and most
attractive will find their way into his brothels; he always needs ‘fresh meat’.
A few, the ones who ‘suit his fancy’, will
be added to his personal supply of ‘bed warmers’. He wants the fiery ones. He likes it when they resist, especially the
men, but it means he gets through a lot of them. The rest of the men and women go to the Sansha,
he must keep up his end of the deal that allowed him and his people to remain
free of Sansha ‘wet wear’ and keep the acquired tech. Then comes the children. Those go to the Amarr, except the handful he
keeps for his ‘special’ customers. He
doesn’t understand them but as long as they pay well he doesn’t care. Happy with what he sees, he selects his new
playthings and leaves his lieutenants to sort the rest of the men and women and
moves on to inspect the children.
He makes his way to the cans containing children, five cans
in total. He jokes with his men about
the high number and what they really got up to in that colony. As they open the first can of children he is
surprised to find that they are all calm and quiet. No tears, no escape attempts or heroics, all
quiet, relaxed, calm. Many are playing
with bits of jewellery. Several of the
men and women had to be killed as they attacked his men when they opened the
cans. He hates the waste; corpses do not
bring in as much as living bodies. But there
is none of that foolishness from the children.
He makes a mental note to have all the children searched for
valuables. As he enters the second
container, a small boy, no more than 5 maybe 6 years old, steps boldly forward
and, in a voice unexpectedly powerful for such a young child, addresses him.
“Hey! Dickhead!”
Stunned silence falls across the guard detail accompanying
him.
“Yes, I’m talking to you, Boss Dickhead.” The child continues, bold and taunting. Pointing to insure there is no confusion.
He lifts his hand and moves to strike the insolent child who
lifts a finger, giving him pause. Fury
threatens to overwhelm him as he draws his knife with intention of turning this
upstart into a loin cloth and a pair of shoes.
The thought of lost profit quells his anger as the child continues.
“That would be very unwise on your part.” The child says, making a clear effort to
stay brave and defiant.
“I have a message for you” he continues with growing
confidence. “A story I was asked to
tell. My parents know you, and they look
forward to seeing you again.
“You see, my father is a capsuleer, my mother was a whore; a
slave in one of your pleasure hubs. He
liberated her when he rescued someone you abducted. He gave her a job as crew on his ship, gave
her a new life. And when I was old
enough to go away to school she became a capsuleer too.”
Tapping his chest for emphasis
“My parents are capsuleers”
And pointing to other children who step forward,
“And hers, and his, and hers too.”
“All of our parents are capsuleers!!”
He shouts, lifting his arms to indicate all of the children. Then in a voice more expectant of a young
child
“And they have come to take us home.”
As the pirate leader draws breath to explain the depth of
the child’s delusions a stone on the boy’s bracelet begins to blink, then on
another child’s ring, and another’s pendant.
And as the klaxon sounds, announcing the arrival of the capsuleer fleet,
the children who had stepped forward rush the guards at the door, shoving them
out, and secure the container door.
Several other children including our young speaker rush the pirate
leader, subduing him with unexpected ease.
And from a darkness broken only by the flashing jewellery a
young girl’s voice says
“Our parents will be very happy to meet you.”
