Post by Al-pocalypse on Apr 25, 2016 15:06:37 GMT
Following Tom's idea, I thought I would pen a prologue for Season 3. As it's a prologue I thought that I would write it in a more narrative form from The Octopus's point of view. It's about 3/4 the way through, but I've run out of time on it today, will continue tomorrow. Let me know what you think:
She wasn't used to not being in the know, she had built her career on her ability go gather and retain pertinent information about anyone she had dealings with. Yet here she was, vexed; vexed by one of Vex's comrades, "he would appreciate that one." She said to herself. Her preferred methods had, so far, proved useless, no amount of digging and research had found anything and the only hint of a clue came from that little street-punk kid who had found out more in a joy ride than her best agents had found in the last month.
Oh well, some times you had to go via the mess that was route one, really not what she wanted.
There was a knock on the door and one of her secretaries entered.
"Madam, there is, what appears to be a drunk, here to see you, claims he has an appointment? Should I send him back to the, establishment, he came from as you have a meeting with one of your Commanders in a few minutes?"
She sighed. "Sadly, that is my commander." Her secretary did well to only raise one eyebrow. "Send him in please."
To be called a drunk was not doing him a disservice, he was wearing the same outfit he had several weeks before, when she had convinced him to join IPEC (if it can be called convincing, many things do not stack up about that night). Clothes that were the height of fashion, twenty years ago and looking like they'd been worn every day since. His lank, greying hair hung down the sides of a face that had the evidence of striking good looks, pissed away at the bottom of many bottles. However, there was still life in those eyes, a keenness that did not match the rest of the appearance and was another riddle layered in this walking enigma.
"Apologies I'm early, Ms. Squid, I'd hoped for a quick pick me up on the way, but the bars aren't open yet."
She stiffened, but tried to regain her composure and relaxed countenance. "It's Octopus, just Octopus, I would advise you to remember that. Also, I would hope that you would do your employer a greater service than to have a "pick me up" before a meeting." She examined his countenance as she delivered this rebuke, anyone else her employ would be squirming in their seat already. However, this dreg in front of her was smiling as if they'd just exchanged pleasantries.
"I guess you are wondering why I have asked you to attend a meeting?" She continued.
"Well, I did initially, but then I remembered that I live in a spaceship. So I stopped wondering about a lot of things and revised my other drinks cabinet." At this rate she was going to need to visit the drinks cabinet. Why did she let Souvarine recruit him? How did she manage to spend an evening in this drunk's company without making the executive decision to end his life?
"I invited you here, commander, because you are an enigma, a mystery, an unknown and that makes you almost unique. You see, from this office I can tell you the histories of everyone in my employ; I can open up the closets of the rich, powerful and make their skeletons dance; I can give you the name and stories of woe of every bum in Nicolet Vision who have to suck asteroids for nourishment and hope they can beg a lift home from the miners. Yet here you are, a nobody who turns up, by chance, at a time to impress one of my aspiring, young commanders just as I am looking to recruit pilots to establish a foothold in this system.
Well I learn from history, even the epic poems and unlike Polyphemus, I do not trust Nobody." She looked at him long again, he was reaching into his jacket, on reflex her hand shot to the holster by her side. Shocked, and was that a blush? He pulled his hand out and had a hip flask in it.
"Sorry." Was his initial response. "I just needed something to keep me going if this is going to take a while." He then smiled and took a swig, it felt as if he was somehow challenging her, but she would not let him rile her.
"Do you have a death wish or are you really that stupid?... Don't answer that, even if you did I wouldn't trust your answer. So where was I? Yes, you turn up, apparently drunk and destroy an Imperial Currier with a stock Sidewinder; whilst, seemly, too drunk to open a comms channel. It then doesn't stop there. Next you make it half way across the bubble to help Commander Souvarine with a refuel. You make it to Maia, are unharmed by the violent Anti-Exploration protests, manage to alert half the Federation's security services on the way back and still live to tell the tale.
"It would appear that now you are apparently "somebody". I checked with my contacts at the Pilots Guild and within the Imperial Registry: you have only been on their books for four months and somehow you now hold standing as a Squire within the Empire, you're rated as a Master combat pilot and a trading Entrepreneur. Not only that, but you have never raised a single insurance claim and have racked up earnings over over two-hundred-million credits. How does a careless drunk do that? How does any commander do that? Luck only goes so far."
Still with that vacant, optimistic smile on his face, he replied. "How does anything happen? You see, when you reach my age and have seen what I have seen, stuff just happens, and it seems to go jolly well for me. So long as I have a drink in my hand, life is great. Why would anyone have any record of me anyway? The only reason I seem to have turned up on your books is because I bumped into Submarine and Dex that one time. What does the universe care about another old drunk?
"Look, I am enjoying flying with these guys, with IPEC. Have I harmed you? No. I think I have done your company very well and it is doing me very well too." At this another swig from his hip flask. "You don't want to know this old drunk's history, it's not a story worth telling, but I am still alive and whilst I'm alive there is hope and you have to laugh don't you?"
"Now, I don't know why you are so interested in me? There is nothing much to say other than another sob story in this vast galaxy. I could either sit here, bare my soul and embarrass both of us to no mutual gain or we could get on with our lives, you keep providing the jobs and I'll keep on doing what I can to improve your and your company's standing within the Empire." This last statement was said with such lucidity and force that she was quite taken aback. Before she could regain her mental footing, he was already getting up and letting himself out of her office. "Anyhow, the pub should be open now and I've got to christen my new ship, keep up the good work and, between you and me, you don't look much like a squid."
He was on his way out of the office, it was now or never for possibly her only ace. "I wouldn't spend so much on alcohol if I were you, we both know it only goes to waste..." What was that? That sudden look he shot her with those clear eyes? The door closed and she sat down, the puzzle now seeming to have five more corner pieces but not an edge in sight. She could have him stopped and escorted back to her office, but what good would that do? No, she had to rely on her instincts, this commander was useful and she could trust Souvarine and Vex to keep an eye on him in the short term. There would be leads out there, indeed there was that one ships log that had been hacked out of the systems of one of his ships. She decided, for now, to not let it worry her and assign this case to one of her staff.
At least there was one comfort, her terminal blinked with a message from a member of her security team, it simply read: 'High definition facial and iris scans captured.'
She wasn't used to not being in the know, she had built her career on her ability go gather and retain pertinent information about anyone she had dealings with. Yet here she was, vexed; vexed by one of Vex's comrades, "he would appreciate that one." She said to herself. Her preferred methods had, so far, proved useless, no amount of digging and research had found anything and the only hint of a clue came from that little street-punk kid who had found out more in a joy ride than her best agents had found in the last month.
Oh well, some times you had to go via the mess that was route one, really not what she wanted.
There was a knock on the door and one of her secretaries entered.
"Madam, there is, what appears to be a drunk, here to see you, claims he has an appointment? Should I send him back to the, establishment, he came from as you have a meeting with one of your Commanders in a few minutes?"
She sighed. "Sadly, that is my commander." Her secretary did well to only raise one eyebrow. "Send him in please."
To be called a drunk was not doing him a disservice, he was wearing the same outfit he had several weeks before, when she had convinced him to join IPEC (if it can be called convincing, many things do not stack up about that night). Clothes that were the height of fashion, twenty years ago and looking like they'd been worn every day since. His lank, greying hair hung down the sides of a face that had the evidence of striking good looks, pissed away at the bottom of many bottles. However, there was still life in those eyes, a keenness that did not match the rest of the appearance and was another riddle layered in this walking enigma.
"Apologies I'm early, Ms. Squid, I'd hoped for a quick pick me up on the way, but the bars aren't open yet."
She stiffened, but tried to regain her composure and relaxed countenance. "It's Octopus, just Octopus, I would advise you to remember that. Also, I would hope that you would do your employer a greater service than to have a "pick me up" before a meeting." She examined his countenance as she delivered this rebuke, anyone else her employ would be squirming in their seat already. However, this dreg in front of her was smiling as if they'd just exchanged pleasantries.
"I guess you are wondering why I have asked you to attend a meeting?" She continued.
"Well, I did initially, but then I remembered that I live in a spaceship. So I stopped wondering about a lot of things and revised my other drinks cabinet." At this rate she was going to need to visit the drinks cabinet. Why did she let Souvarine recruit him? How did she manage to spend an evening in this drunk's company without making the executive decision to end his life?
"I invited you here, commander, because you are an enigma, a mystery, an unknown and that makes you almost unique. You see, from this office I can tell you the histories of everyone in my employ; I can open up the closets of the rich, powerful and make their skeletons dance; I can give you the name and stories of woe of every bum in Nicolet Vision who have to suck asteroids for nourishment and hope they can beg a lift home from the miners. Yet here you are, a nobody who turns up, by chance, at a time to impress one of my aspiring, young commanders just as I am looking to recruit pilots to establish a foothold in this system.
Well I learn from history, even the epic poems and unlike Polyphemus, I do not trust Nobody." She looked at him long again, he was reaching into his jacket, on reflex her hand shot to the holster by her side. Shocked, and was that a blush? He pulled his hand out and had a hip flask in it.
"Sorry." Was his initial response. "I just needed something to keep me going if this is going to take a while." He then smiled and took a swig, it felt as if he was somehow challenging her, but she would not let him rile her.
"Do you have a death wish or are you really that stupid?... Don't answer that, even if you did I wouldn't trust your answer. So where was I? Yes, you turn up, apparently drunk and destroy an Imperial Currier with a stock Sidewinder; whilst, seemly, too drunk to open a comms channel. It then doesn't stop there. Next you make it half way across the bubble to help Commander Souvarine with a refuel. You make it to Maia, are unharmed by the violent Anti-Exploration protests, manage to alert half the Federation's security services on the way back and still live to tell the tale.
"It would appear that now you are apparently "somebody". I checked with my contacts at the Pilots Guild and within the Imperial Registry: you have only been on their books for four months and somehow you now hold standing as a Squire within the Empire, you're rated as a Master combat pilot and a trading Entrepreneur. Not only that, but you have never raised a single insurance claim and have racked up earnings over over two-hundred-million credits. How does a careless drunk do that? How does any commander do that? Luck only goes so far."
Still with that vacant, optimistic smile on his face, he replied. "How does anything happen? You see, when you reach my age and have seen what I have seen, stuff just happens, and it seems to go jolly well for me. So long as I have a drink in my hand, life is great. Why would anyone have any record of me anyway? The only reason I seem to have turned up on your books is because I bumped into Submarine and Dex that one time. What does the universe care about another old drunk?
"Look, I am enjoying flying with these guys, with IPEC. Have I harmed you? No. I think I have done your company very well and it is doing me very well too." At this another swig from his hip flask. "You don't want to know this old drunk's history, it's not a story worth telling, but I am still alive and whilst I'm alive there is hope and you have to laugh don't you?"
"Now, I don't know why you are so interested in me? There is nothing much to say other than another sob story in this vast galaxy. I could either sit here, bare my soul and embarrass both of us to no mutual gain or we could get on with our lives, you keep providing the jobs and I'll keep on doing what I can to improve your and your company's standing within the Empire." This last statement was said with such lucidity and force that she was quite taken aback. Before she could regain her mental footing, he was already getting up and letting himself out of her office. "Anyhow, the pub should be open now and I've got to christen my new ship, keep up the good work and, between you and me, you don't look much like a squid."
He was on his way out of the office, it was now or never for possibly her only ace. "I wouldn't spend so much on alcohol if I were you, we both know it only goes to waste..." What was that? That sudden look he shot her with those clear eyes? The door closed and she sat down, the puzzle now seeming to have five more corner pieces but not an edge in sight. She could have him stopped and escorted back to her office, but what good would that do? No, she had to rely on her instincts, this commander was useful and she could trust Souvarine and Vex to keep an eye on him in the short term. There would be leads out there, indeed there was that one ships log that had been hacked out of the systems of one of his ships. She decided, for now, to not let it worry her and assign this case to one of her staff.
At least there was one comfort, her terminal blinked with a message from a member of her security team, it simply read: 'High definition facial and iris scans captured.'
