Randolph Lalonde: Awakening

“She must have been out of ammunition,” Stephanie said quietly.

“Actually, port law prohibits the departure of ships carrying anyone who discharged a firearm. Law enforcement must clear them before they can depart.”

“Smart girl. Looks like something you'd do sir.”

“Thanks to this incident we know she flies the Clever Dream, an Arcyn Starskipper model craft with a wormhole generator. One of her eyes has been replaced with a very high end prosthetic that can gather more information than the average person can handle and she uses the same kind of vacsuit some of your crew wear. She was using the name Fran Molleneuvre on that base. Is that enough for you to start working for us Captain Valance?”

“Did you find out where her next destination would be?” Jake asked.

“She didn't register a plan with the Port Authority. That, along with a number of other obvious traits, seem to run in the family.”

“All right, I'll work with you as long as you keep digging.”

“And after we find her? If we manage to arrange a reunion or she refuses to see you?”

“I'll do the publicity, I can guarantee that we'll make a few captures, but I won't stick around past what I've promised. There are a few things I'd like to chase down. My daughter is only the first.”

“I understand. It may not be easy though. Much like you, any minor information we find on her is difficult to obtain and it's like she just appeared out of nowhere a few years ago. Just a year or two before you did.”

“Being elusive runs in the family,” Captain Valance said quietly.

“So it does.” She stood up and put a small data chip down on her desk. “Here is your letter of marque. It's ready to be programmed into your ship computer using whichever transponder you like, but only one. After you've accepted this you will be legally permitted to seize and destroy Regent Galactic vessels and property in the name of Aucharia. We've also gathered volunteers who may like to join you. They're all military so they should take orders easily enough. Our current administration doesn't take things slow. The Lieutenant waiting in the hall can show you to them.”

Captain Valance stood and offered his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said quietly.

“And you, Captain. Bring us a storm.”

Stephanie stood and was about to turn and leave, but the Minister offered her hand. She took it gently and locked eyes with her for a moment. A small smile peeked through the stern expression on the tall woman's face, Stephanie was forced to mirror her. “The hero is nothing without his pedestal. Be strong for the crew.”

Stephanie could only nod as the woman slowly let go of her hand.

A young Ensign led them down the hallway into an express tube. It shuttled them vertically and horizontally through the large ship until they arrived at the intersection of several hallways. It was a large square with a transparent dome ceiling with a vista of stars beyond. Dozens of citizens were moving about, most of them in light clothing suitable for the equatorial regions on the surface of the planet. A few wore robes of office, but the majority of the people there seemed to be civilians.

The Ensign, a young man with dark hair, led them down one hall a few meters then through a doorway. It was a plain, large common room with tables and chairs for seventy. The walls played host to Newsnet replays, some focused on the breaking storm below on the planet while others featured news of the war. Over a hundred young men and women were inside, all of them fell silent as the Captain entered. “They've all heard of you sir. Everyone has known exactly who you are ever since the Thadd rescue hit the news,” it was the first thing the Ensign had said.

“These are all volunteers?” Captain Valance asked.

“Every one of them sir.”

“They're so young,” Stephanie whispered. “I didn't expect them to be so young.”

It was true, the oldest of them looked twenty. “Do you have a recorder of some kind?” Captain Valance asked the Lieutenant.

“Everything in the capitol is recorded.”

“Then tell your superiors they're about to get their recruitment clip,” he said as he walked to the front of the room. They had set up a simple metal podium for him and he stopped to stand beside it. “I'm Captain Jacob Valance of the Samson. A few days ago I was hired by Regent Galactic to hunt down a cargo train that had been stolen. This wasn't something new. I've been cleaning up messes for super corporations for years. When we hooked up to the cargo train and I saw the dead and dying masses within I was horrified. I said; 'no more.' We turned and set our course for a friendlier star. It was time to start doing the wrong thing for all the right reasons.

I am a very bad man. I have done what most people would refuse to and moved on to the next dirty deed that would get me and my crew a good payday. That is how I have become the very best at doing my very worst. It is not time for me to retire. It is time to make a change.

I won't do anyone's dirty work just for the credits. Not after what I have seen, not after hearing a call that beats with the same rhythm of my heart. Regent Galactic and corporations like them take advantage of the weak, the solitary, the immigrants, transients and the minorities while they use marketing and empty entertainments to subdue the masses. Whether they keep their subjects in chains or in the bondage of manufactured culture, Regent Galactic and companies like them are slavers.

The Aucharians, your government, have given me the opportunity to go after them in their name. I will disrupt Regent Galactic's trade, take their provisions, free their slaves, steal their weapons and kill their soldiers. Corporations like them helped me become the best hunter, killer and a famous bearer of bad news. I'm going out there to do my worst to all the right people, burn all the right bridges and break the bonds of millions. Come with me.”

“Damn, after hearing that I'm almost ready to turn this ship around and sign up as a privateer,” said Captain Engel from the command chair of the Midland.

“He always was a good speaker,” Ayan agreed quietly from his left. The rest of the recruitment clip was only contact information and other details about the war between Regent Galactic and the Aucharians. She wore a white vacsuit that left only her face open. Over top she wore a white hooded poncho.

“I'd say he's gotten better,” Laura said from where she leaned on a deactivated secondary communications station.

“How old is this, Captain?” Asked Ayan.

“We got it in the last burst transmission ma'am, when we turned around and started heading for home three days ago. It was five days old then.”

“Do you know if Freeground Fleet Intelligence has sent any requests to these Aucharians?”

“I wouldn't have access to that Major. It's a little over my head.” Replied the Captain. He had been very patient with the specialist team on board. Ayan, Laura and a team of engineers with the Special Projects division were there testing a new combination wormhole hyperspace system. The tests were going very well, the drive was a success and as a reward Captain Engel would continue as commander of the Midland. It would be the fastest ship of its class for at least a year, most likely longer. The Special Projects team, lead by Major Ayan Rice, was easier to accommodate than he expected. Her team were chosen from a pool of hundreds of volunteers, they all wanted to be there. Most of them, especially their commander, were polite and easy to communicate with.

The most difficult thing about the last five months was watching Major Rice's health slowly deteriorate. Her energy was waning while her dedication and enthusiasm forced her to constantly overextend herself. Commander Laura Everin, her subordinate and best friend was the only person who could convince the Major to slow down, or pace herself at all.