The Worker

Fiction Friday. Escape pod here!

The Worker

Ragnar pulled back on the throttle and the aging Noctis industrial vibrated as it slowed. The inertial dampeners were failing. Another expense he didn't need. He sent the docking request to the station and left the ship on autopilot. He looked over his spreadsheet and double checked the numbers. Two weeks out and a share for this run was worth just under a thousand credits. He'd lose crew here he knew it. He would need to hold off transferring the wages until the salvage had been offloaded. Once they knew they were only getting a grand for two weeks in deep space many would just walk away. The salvage had been poor quality. He needed to find a wreck of a capsuleer strategic cruiser or even a black-ops. He'd moved to this area as there had been a capsuleer war raging. However neither side had been willing to risk any expensive ships.

The docking request was accepted and Ragnar took control of the ship. May be if he gave the crew a couple of days shore leave it might help. He looked up the station services. A standard Matari deep-space outpost. If you had ore to process this was your place. If you were looking for fun, not so much. There were a number of bars and clubs listed, a hotel and a zero-G sports arena. Yes, he was going to lose crew on this dock. However on the bright side it would probably be a good place to find replacements. People desperate to get off this outpost in the arse-end of nowhere. The ship shook again as the outpost's tractor beams locked onto the ship and pulled it through the atmosphere shield. Within a few minutes the ship was secured.

At the dock he could see three MTACs waiting to offload the cargo. The docking process was finalised and the cargo bay doors opened. 5 minutes later he saw a notification that the buyer had transferred the funds. He hit the button to release the crew wages before heading to the captain's exit that led direct to the station quarters each captain was granted on docking. He didn't want to be around when the crew came complaining about the meager wages from this run.

-o0o-

The Rust Rinse was cold and refreshing. Probably the only saving grace of this outpost was that it served good Matari ale. Ragnar was sat in the "Bumped Titan", a bar in the executive hotel on the station. On a Gallente station it wouldn't even be rated as a three-star. However by Matari standards it was expensive. He could have gone to one of the cheaper bars but no doubt he'd run into some of his crew. Explaining it wasn't his fault that they hadn't got any quality salvage this run would have been a futile task. He was the captain and it would be seen as his fault. Fights would start and he'd need to make an example. Not tonight. He needed a drink.

"Anyone sitting here?" the voice spoke in Matari but Ragnar knew it was a Gallente voice. He turned to find a woman stood there smiling.

"Nope." he said cautiously.

The woman smiled and sat on the bar stool, turning slightly away from Ragnar as she tried to attract the barmans attention. Ragnar glanced around the room. There were several places she could have sat but she chose the seat next to him. He appraised her discreetly as she continued to look down the bar in the opposite direction. She was a classic True-Gallente beauty. He'd have guessed mid-twenties. Her hair was the shade of a blackhole and shone in the bars harsh light. She wore a black jacket with a sheer black skin-tight top below it. The deep V of the jacket revealed the edges of her lace bra and a hint of cleavage. The skirt was short but tasteful. The heels were bright red with a stiletto. High and deadly. Why would an attractive woman, dressed to kill, come to sit next to him? He could guess. In fact the way he felt right now, some company, even the type you pay for by the hour, would be a welcome distraction.

"So, are you a Captain?" she asked after she received her drink.

"What makes you say that." he replied.

"You don't look like like the usual business man who stays at this hotel. I've never seen you on the outpost before and it's a small outpost. If you were crew you'd be drinking on one of the lower decks where the booze is cheaper. Therefore probably Captain or high-level ships officer with the creds to spend looking for what pretends to be a classier establishment in this middle-of-nowhere dump of an outpost. I doubt you're an officer though. I've seen there are a couple of Ventures docked along with a Badger and a Noctis. None of those ships usually have a command crew, just a captain. Therefore you are likely to be the Captain of one of those ships."

"Well done. The Noctis. She's mine." he said with a smile. "Bit of a rust-bucket but she does alright by me."

"So, you looking for some R&R tonight?" she said turning slightly to face him. He glanced down as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs.

"I could be." Ragnar replied guardedly unsure if she was meaning what he thought she was meaning. The flash of lace stocking tops as she purposely crossed her legs almost confirmed it.

"I'm Fanason," she said extending a hand "and its 600 chips."

Ragnar laughed shaking her hand. "You don't waste much time do you?"

"What's the point? We could waste an hour making small talk. With your reaction I can tell you are not surprised what I am. However you might have been, and we'd have both wasted our time when it came to the real business."

"No, I'm not surprised. However I am drinking in this bar mainly to avoid my crew who are probably more than a little upset that the share for the last run was so bad. Hence, whilst I am sure you're worth every cred, 600 is out of my league."

"OK what you got?"

"200"

"No you don't." she said smiling "400."

"250"

"300"

"OK, Lets go!" Fanason said sliding off the stool.

-o0o-

Ragnar pressed his his thumb onto her datapad which beeped signaling that the transfer of funds was authorised. Fanason smiled at him, placed the datapad back in her bag and walked to a counter and placed her bag down. She turned around to face him and unfastened the buttons on her jacket letting it fall open slightly.

"Well Captain. I'm all yours" she purred.

He move quickly, covering the distance between them in seconds, pushing her against the bulkhead. His hungry lips finding hers. She returned the kiss with passion sliding a hot, wet tongue into his mouth. Ragnar's hand dropped down pulling her leg up and over his hip. She wrapped it around him, pulling him into her as his hand slid up her silk clad legs, over the lace tops and to the hot flesh above. His hand moved higher, pushing the unbuttoned jacket off her shoulders whilst he kissed and nibbled on her neck. She gasped in pleasure as he playfully nipped her.

He pulled the see-through top over her head, breaking the kiss momentarily before pushing her bra up over her breasts and dipping his mouth to them. His hands snaked around her back to pull her in close as he took a rock-hard nipple into his mouth eliciting a gasp from his lover. He felt something with his fingers as they traced up her spine. Something metal. "No" he thought "It cannot be." As his mouth worked on her breasts he moved his hands higher up her back. There was another and another, metal disks with holes set into her spine. The realisation hit him. He suddenly pulled back in fear. She gave him a weak smile.

"Look...." she started.

"You're a capsuleer." he said pointing at her with a shaking finger. "You're an egger. An immortal." Real fear etched on his face.

She shook her head slowly. "Not any more." she said sadly pulling her bra back down to cover herself.

The fear in Ragnar's eyes subsided slightly but he kept his distance.

"I'm sorry." he said. "I don't understand. You have the implants, the sockets!"

"Let me explain." she said sitting on the small bed and patting it to indicate he should sit next to her.

-o0o-

"I always wanted to fly, so I joined the Navy after college. During the initial testing it was found I was capsule-compatible. The minimum term is a lot longer if they put you through capsuleer training but what's 10 more years if it'll make you immortal. Things were good for a few years. Then it all fell apart. It was the outbreak of hostilities at the start of the Empyrean war. That bastard Heth had launched against Caldari Prime in Luminaire. I was part of the defense fleet trying to stop the invasion. It was total confusion. Caldari dropships trying to get to the planet mixed with all the civilian traffic. Command lost it and our squadron was ordered to fire on anything trying to reach the planet. I never signed up to blast Gallente families out of the sky. So I disobeyed a direct order and was ordered to return to the carrier. I knew what would happen if I complied and I was having none of it. I headed straight for low-sec. The bastards even sent a couple of 'ceptors after me. One of the planets in our home system was being invaded and they were bothered about me skipping? Anyway I got to Old Man Star and then deeper into low-sec. I was low on ammo when I came across a Serpentis outpost. I was out of options. I contacted them and spoke to their commander. From then on I was no longer a Lieutenant in the Federal Navy. I was a smuggler. The Serpentis were happy. An 'Egger' running their product. It was all going well. Not the career I'd chosen and not one I was happy with. However running product for the Serpentis was better in my opinion than firing antimatter charges at civilians, the same civilians that I had sworn an oath to protect. The Feds had put a bounty on my head but the Serps provided protection for me. I wouldn't say it was going well at that time, but it was better than the alternative.

Then I fracked up, I fracked up massively. I got involved with someone I shouldn't have. Anyway his girlfriend was a local Serpentis commander. When she found out she went nuts. He was flushed out of an airlock. However she didn't want that fate for me. They used a stun baton to fry my implants. I have never felt so much pain. Two of her enforcers held me whilst a third one fried each in turn as she stared into my face smiling. Those sockets on my back are useless. I cannot jack into a capsule anymore. Fried beyond use. They then flew me out here to the arse-end of space and dumped me on this station. She knew exactly what she was doing. There are no real jobs here, it's a poor station. Only way to survive is to sell the only thing I have. This is my punishment, selling myself to salvagers and miners deep in null-sec."

Ragnar looked shell-shocked.

"Surely a captain would give you a ride back to low-sec for.... you know."

She laughed.

"Yes I'm sure they would. Unfortunately they thought of that. Before I was dumped here they implanted a small tracking device within whats left of my implants. If I step on any ship in the dock the Captain of that ship gets an automated message saying if he undocks with me still onboard they intercept him and destroy his ship. I could easily bater passage back to civilisation, but no Captain is going to risk going to war with the Serpentis over a good lay. The medical facilities here are laughable. No way of getting the tracker out of my back either without risking paralysis. My only chance is to save up, buy an old frigate and make a run for it myself. However, that bitch knew what she was doing when she left me here. With business as it is here I'll never save enough.

"But surely you could get one of the top jobs on the outpost here. The owners would kill to have an ex-capsuleer heading up their C&C surely? Must be better than..." Ragnar's voice trailed away.

"She thought of that too. The owners have been warned if they give me a proper job they'll get a visit from one of their enforcement teams. Not just them, their family too. Best job I can get on the outpost is a cleaner with one of the contractors which will just about cover rent and food in return for scrubbing toilets. Yeah, she won."

Ragnar shook his head.

"That's just...evil." he said pausing to find the right word.

"It is what it is. Now, if you're finished with my full background, I have to work for that frigate!"

She pushed him backwards and he fell onto the bed. Climbing on top of him she removed her bra and leaned forward, hovering her breasts just over his lips.

"So, where were we?" she said with a smile.

-o0o-

The buzzer woke Ragnar  with a start. Someone was furiously hammering on the door too. He glanced over and Fanason was still asleep. He slipped from the bed and groggily made his way over. He looked at the viewscreen set into the door controls. Mairanard was there. She was sort of his second in command on the Noctis. The ship didn't really need an XO but she was the closest he had. He opened the door.

"About fracking time!" she growled storming inside.

"Come on in!" he muttered sarcastically.

"Ah I see by your company not everyone was so poorly paid yesterday." Mairanard sneered looking at Fanason who had been woken by the commotion and was sat up holding the sheet to cover her naked body.

"Cut the shit Mairanard I'm not in the mood. You know the rules, the Captain should get two shares, you get one and a half, everyone else one. I took less than one in the end so you got more than me. I cannot believe you're storming in here at this hour to bitch about pay when you of all the crew should know how shit the last run was."

Mairanard turned to face him with her hands on her hips.

"I'm not here to bitch about pay. I'm here because you're not answering your god-damn datapad!"

"Its on silent. I had, have, company! What's the fracking crisis? The bar run out of rum?"

"CRISIS?" Mairanard screamed! "You have no fracking idea!"

She stomped over to the desk and hit the control for the vid-screens. The room was bathed in red light almost instantly as the holographic screens appeared.

"Oh shit!" Ragnar exclaimed as he read the headlines. The word everyone feared in this day and age was plastered across the top of the main screen. 'Incursion'.

"Whilst you're doing your bit for Matari/Gallente relations, the fracking Nation have dropped in and are currently destroying anything in space as they systematically raid the planets! Has the blood transferred from your little head to the big one in sufficient volume that you can come up with some sort of plan to prevent us from all being turned into fracking space-zombies?"

Ragnar paused.

"We fly out of here!"

"Oh fracking great! Yeah, fly out of here in that slow-ass Noctis. The Sansha will have a field day on us! No way we can outfly them! A Reverent could catch us in that thing!"

"No, we can't outfly them. But a Capsuleer piloting at the helm might be able to!"

"Shit! You really do need a blood shunt between your heads! It's not even a capsuleer capable outpost. So where the frack are we going to find a capsuleer out here that wants to manually pilot our rust bucket?"

Ragnar turned and looked to Fanason. Mairanard turned too, wondering what he was looking out. She looked at the darked-haired Gallente woman in her Captain's bed.

"No way!" she exclaimed in shock.

"I'll get dressed." Fanason said quietly.

To be continued...