Closing Hours

Unsurprisingly the bar was dark and quiet when I entered - catering primarily to podders, the news of an upcoming sov switch of the area had left the usual patronage in various stages of evacuation. The only other guest, in fact, was a young Minmatar punk who was helping herself to various bottles left behind on the shelves behind the bar. Smiling, I made my way over.

“You look worse than I feel”, I said by way of greeting.

Myra barely looked up. “Ugh. Don’t. Even. Mention. It.”

I hopped up to sit on the bar counter. “Try Arcturian Mega-Vodka. You’ll feel bad again tomorrow, but at least today will be a pleasant memory.”

She looked up to me. “You’re of course an expert in this.”

“Maybe…”, I conceded. “But it wasn’t me who got drunk yesterday and went off loud-mouthing the leader of the attacking alliance in local.”

“I didn’t know that he was the leader, ok?!”, she snarled at me. “I thought he was just another line-grunt, and when he came along with his drunk sense of self-importance, I let him have it.” She emptied her glass and looked at it morosely. “Probably not my best performance…”

I grabbed a glass and bottle she had left open, and poured one for myself. “Nope, not at all.” I took a sip, and shuddered. “It was entertaining, though.” I eyed my drink, unsure if I should let it win. “What are your plans now?”

Myra opened another bottle. “Apart from finding a dog to get hairs from? Ship out to hi-sec, like everyone else.” She paused for a moment. “I might stay there for a while, because…” She paused again.

I took another sip of my drink, willing to face the challenge of it. It still tasted like engine degreaser. “Shush - she’s a good catch.” I winked at her.

She had refilled her glass meanwhile. “Well, you’d be the one to know…”, she replied before taking a drink. Her grimace was newsworthy, and she coughed several times. “What the…”, she began, but then her voice croaked in defeat.

“Dog enough for you?”

“Oh yes!”, she replied, with teary eyes. “And you?” she asked, before taking another drink.

I looked at my glass for a while before answering. “Factional Warfare borderzone.” I replied eventually. “Null just doesn’t do it for me, and I do have other obligations as well these days.”

She coughed again, and nodded. “It must be nice to have a place to call home…”

I refilled her glass.

“It’ll happen, Kitten, trust me.”

It's In The Name

        "With hindsight, the decision sucked.  But that's the benefit of hindsight.
        When you use it, all decisions suck." -- Giles Todd

[ What did you say? You were cutting out. ]

I grimaced at the holo comms - Miss Phage was being her usual polite self. The reason I had ‘cut out’ was because a round of cheers that had erupted when Kaili Severasse and his squad entered the bar, returning from a successful operation - the new kind required to live in null-sec. And what the patronage of Squirrel Central’s Bar-and-Grill thought it lacked in numbers, it made up for with enthusiasm.

“I said ‘The operation here appears to have been a success - it has been a while since we had that many alliance members and friends in one place.” I paused, and then as if by afterthought added, “And your last POCO has been placed as well.”

[ I got the notice. ] She smiled faintly. [ And the first import/export taxes are rolling in as we speak. Your alliance is quite a busy bunch. ]

“That they are!” I took a drink from my glass.

[ Your team doesn’t happen to be around? ] she continued.

I hmmed and looked around. The strategically dim lighting of the bar, combined with the flickering of the large holo screens playing back everybody’s favorite battle moments made it hard to locate people… ah, there was Rhys, making good on his challenge to arm-wrestle everybody in the room for drinks, currently giving Darius a hard time. And Mica and Myra… sitting a bit apart from the crowd, laughing and having drinks together. I smiled inwardly at the sight.

“There are a bit busy,” I turned back to the comm unit, “but I’ll let them know that you asked for them - they’ll know what it means.”

Miss Phage nodded in acknowledgment. [ I am wondering about something though… ] She hesitated [ While I wouldn’t prescribe my field agents how they perform their job - why Taloses? ]

“Instead of cheaper and more nimble stealth bombers?” I frowned. “I was questioning my decision myself at times. The original estimates showed them to provide better sustained damage than bombers, and the ammunition was cheaper. And they were fitted cross-purpose to be able to serve as heavy hitters in an Alliance defense fleet as well. Alas,” I grimaced, “the latter never came to pass.”

[ Instead there were many mobile groups with cloaky support. ]

“...and we were rusty as hell.” I agreed grudgingly. “But we got into some nice scuffles, and at the end we had a good system down, even though it required a lot of patience.” I sighed. “I’m afraid though that it’ll be a while before the POCOs make back the expenses.”

Miss Phage chuckled. [ It was never about profit alone, and not even about symbolically staking a claim. ] She looked at me inscrutably. [ I wanted to know if my team was still around. ]

“What…” I began, but she didn’t let me finish.

[ You’ll need a name, though. ] she mused. [ I think it’s tradition among Spec Ops teams that they have impressive nicknames.] She smiled at me. [ Especially the more special ones. ]

I blinked at this turn, and all my brain was able to come up with was the highly unoriginal ‘...what?’

“ Cat’s Destruction “, said a very cheerful Myra over my shoulder, carrying four drinks in her hands, clearly having overheard us on her re-supply mission. “Nobody’d get it!” She beamed at me, and continued back towards her table.

Miss Phage looked thoughtful. [ I like it - it’s very fitting. What do you say? ]

“I say...,” having gotten back control of my words, “I’ll think about it.”

[ Fair enough. ] She leaned back, clearly done with our chat. [ I’ll let you get back to your party - though I do hope that next time I call on you in person, your partner will be at home as well - I’m curious to meet him. Godspeed. ] And the link cut off.

I emptied my drink in one go, a thought flashing through my mind.

*You and me both.*

Late Night Company

        “Is this a good plan?” - “I’m confused to its purpose, so it must be good!” — Nodwick, 2004/06/16

With a jerk I woke up. My Hound shifted as my brain struggled to make sense of my surroundings, then my view cleared. Outside, the system’s star’s light glanced off the hull of my stealth bomber as it floated in the protective bubble of the POS I was spending the night in. Fluid router downtime was looming, and I wondered what had woken me.

[ Druur, are you there? ] , asked a voice on our Alliance comm channel. Greygal, our intrepid leader.

Subvocalized or not, my first words were just a croak. I swallowed and tried again: “Am now.”

[ Do you have time to scout me to UQY, taking the back way? I figured I’d stage a TCU there while it’s quiet, in case tomorrow’s fight goes south. ]

“Sure thing. Give me a sec - I just woke up.”

[ You definitely sound like you only just woke up, even more than usual! ]

I smiled weakly in my pod while the systems of my ship went back to full power. My warp drive sputtered to life and the POS became a rapidly shrinking point of light behind me. In 60M, Greygal was already waiting in her transport. Our trip would take us through just two systems of ours, but since the TCU was of strategic importance... I took the lead and warped to the 9-H gate, activating the sequence right when I landed.

“9-H is… friendly.”

[ Good, I’m coming in. Hey, how is your POCO project coming? ]

“It’s coming. There is only one left, and it will come out of reinforce in a few hours.” I answered while my warp drive did its duty again. The next gate loomed large, then the warp tunnel distorted my vision. “In fact … UQY is empty … we had it out of reinforce Saturday morning already, but Exiled was simply too active for us to do anything about it.” I grimaced in memory - Exiled was quite good at insta-locking camps and skirmishing, and especially our large ships would have just died needlessly.

[ Ok, hopping into UQY. You know, you could put these timers onto the calendar, so that people could see them, and, like, join your fleets. ] She coughed. [ Hint hint. ]

I felt chagrin as our ships crossed the space towards our staging POS. Our project certainly had turned out more complicated and lossy than expected, and the strain of alarm-clocking the timers was wearing on my team. Asking for Alliance backup would have made some things easier, but yet  …

It wasn’t that we rejected backup when people offered, but somehow it mattered that we didn’t plan on it, even if we couldn’t put the exact reasons into words.

Greygal understood even so. [ You crazy lone wolves with your squirreling… ] she commented with amusement while the crews unloaded the TCU from her ship’s cargo hold, and I laughed.

“Yup.”

Nine Months Later

        “That’s ok. Sometimes we need a break from you, too.”

Sweat ran down my face as I dropped the empty magazine from my blaster rifle and clicked a new one home. Further down the obstacle course, a combat drone weaved in and out of cover, waiting for me to get out from behind this obstacle. No way I could defeat it from here, but if I could flank it… without a second thought I turned the corner, fired two unaimed shots to make the drone duck back, and broke into a sprint to the nearest obstacle to the side. Sliding to a stop added a few bruises to my skin, but I smiled: it was nice to be back at normal weight and proportions. Now if only I could make it to the next cover… I got moving again: turn the corner, two cover shots, another sprint, and then the world turned a painful red when a blaster bolt hit me mid-stride.

Collapsing to the ground, momentarily paralyzed from the blast, I cursed: the bloody thing had flanked me!

Groaning I rolled onto my back, when suddenly a heavy weight landed on my chest and a long, rough tongue licked my face. Hands still tingling, I reached up and nudged the dog’s head away, giving me some room. “What are you doing here, Buddy? You could get shot!” Nearby, I sensed the practice combat drone powering down - no longer a danger now that it had won the exercise.

“Ma’am?”

Distracting Buddy with an intense ear-scritching, I managed to sit up and look at the Amarrian teenager standing next to me. “What is it?”

“You have a visitor, Ma’am - a certain Lady Phage. She says that you know her?”

I frowned - I certainly remembered ‘Lady’ Rhea Phage. I just didn’t expect her to show up again in my life. But apparently she wasn’t done with me after all.

“Make her feel welcome - I’ll be joining her shortly.” I looked down at my sweat-glistening upper body and the happy shepherd dog draped across my legs. “I need to freshen up first.”

————

‘Freshen up’ - I was quietly chuckling at my choice of words as I directed my steps towards our porch. A couple of splashes of water into my face, the worst of the dirt brushed off my camo pants, a dark-mauve blouse thrown over my still sweat-drenched tank top - that counted, right? Nursing a large glass of water, I sat down across of Miss Phage and mustered her. Despite the heat of the day, she looked quite comfortable in her refined business outfit, tea cup in her hand.

“I am sorry to have kept you waiting,” I said, skipping formalities, “but I see that you have been taken care of.”

“Yes, thanks. And no apology needed” she replied, “I didn’t exactly announce my visit beforehand. And the wait did give me time to admire your dwelling here - it is quite impressive.” She cocked her head slightly. “It’s not what I would have expected from you.”

I couldn’t help glancing around at those words - the house, the deck we’re sitting on, the forest surrounding us - before answering. “Honestly, I didn’t expect it myself, nor was it my idea. But now that I’m here… One could say that I had stumbled over an opportunity and ran with it.”

“More than just ‘ran with it’, from what I’ve seen.” she remarked, taking a sip of tea. “But that’s actually why I’m here - to offer you an opportunity of my own.”

I leaned back. “Is that so? - Thank you, Laura.” The last was directed at the teenager who had come out and set a carafe of fresh cold water onto the table. “That is all for now - go tend to your other chores.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Laura bowed her head and retreated back into the house. I looked back at Miss Phage, who was watching me with an amused smile. Ignoring the bait, I emptied my glass and refilled it from the carafe. “So, what opportunity are you here to sell me on?”

Miss Phage set her cup back onto the saucer. “I want to finalize Hazardous’ foothold in Querious, and I need pilots.” She focused her gaze on me. “Pilots willing to do the boring work of eliminating structures, and doing so without much of a safety net.”

I held her gaze for a moment. “Then why are you coming to me? I haven’t exactly been active the last months. And you know what I think of large fleets.”

“That’s not true,” she retorted. “You were on roams recently, and with quite a number of pilots in fleet at that.”

“They were on roams, fighting the war.” I corrected her. “I was unwinding with one-woman slosh-ops. We just happened to fly into the same general direction at about the same times.”

Miss Phage studied me curiously for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good.”

“‘Good’?” I asked.

“Good.” she repeated. “I can’t use pilots who are oblivious of their limits.” She paused to pour some more tea. “At first, you weren’t even on my list,” she added coolly, “but the other pilots I reached out to - who I’d trust to get the job done even on their own - insisted that I’d talk to you as well. ‘Crotchety, reckless, and knowing it’ I think were the words.”

“Ouch.” I grimaced, but it was true. “Who are those fools who consider these to be good things?”
“See for yourself.” She produced a data pad, and pushed it over. I caught it and scanned the list of names - it was rather short, and familiar.

“These pilots…”, I began, but Miss Phage didn’t let me finish. “It’s your team - in more way than one.” she said. “What do you say?”

I looked at the pad. “Let me think about it.”

————

Drakus eventually found me in our paskan suskone - the shrine he had constructed in our house. I didn’t subscribe to his spirituality still, much less my own, but it was a calm, quiet room - perfect for…

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Thinking.” I replied.

“About what?” He sat down next to me.

“The decision I have to make.” I averted his eyes for a moment.

“What decision?” He reached over to stroke my neck.

I took a breath. “Well, just a few hours a ago I got a contract offer…” - and I filled him in about my conversation with Miss Phage. When I was finished, he was silent for a while, his hand absentmindedly caressing my hair.

“You are going to leave me. Again.” he finally said.

“It’s only for a couple of weeks,” I implored, “and given how null-sec works, I might be spending more time here in my jump clone, than on the battlefield.”

“But Zoë…”, he began, but I cut him off.

“…Zoë is old enough that she no longer needs me around the clock, and she is in good hands.” For emphasis I grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “Namely, yours. And Laura’s.” I looked at him. “But I have to do this - otherwise I would no longer be the woman which caught your eye so many months ago. And believe me, you don’t want that to happen.”

Drakus looked out of the windows for a while, then turned back to me. “You have already made your decision, haven’t you? Without consulting me?”

That gave me pause, then I nodded somberly. “Yes. Yes, I think I have.” Looking into his earnest eyes, I added, more sure than I was before, “Sorry.”

For a few seconds, Drakus held my gaze, then he let go and stood up, with an expression I had come to know quite well by then. I made no attempt to stop him, and after he had left, I stood up myself and went to peer out of one the windows. Yep, there he went, axe shouldered, headed straight towards the woodshed.

Briefly I rested my head against the window pane and sighed, then straightened up again and turned away. Space was calling me.