(Posted on 03-17-01)
Part one: A strange message
I walked into the room. "Lights...full," I said, and the room turned bright. The door closed behind me.
"New messages," I said, and the screen in the wall turned blue and a computer voice said:
"Recognized voice pattern: Rogan Edwards authorized for entry. You have two new messages."
I looked at the screen for a moment before I continued: "Play messages."
The first message was a commercial for some kind of cereals. The second was a message from one of my friends, Michael Garibaldi. It read:
"Rogan, this is your friend, Michael. I need your help...remember my quarters at Blackthorne? Well, you must rush to get there at once. I cannot tell you more at the moment...this is not a secure channel. But you need to hurry; I need your help really bad, and I cant stay here for more than four more days. Please, Rogan, Im desperate. Your friend, Michael Garibaldi."
I sat down in my comfy chair as the screen turned black. I wondered what he wanted from me this time. Michael has always been a troublemaker, but also one of my best friends. I had to help him.
Traveling to Blackthorne was not a difficult thing to do; I was in a nearby system, and my Kestrel MKII was in top-notch condition. I took some weapons and hurried to the dock.
My ship, the A.S.S. Kicker, was ready to go, so I got up to the bridge and ordered my crew to get the ship off the planet. I plotted the course myself and soon, the ship was on its way.
The lamps blinked and the speakers beeped when I closed up on Blackhthorne.
When the A.S.S. Kicker jumped out of hyperspace, my ears clogged up completely. Funny how I never have gotten used to hyperspace traveling...its like I feel on my whole body that Im one day older. I looked with disgust at all the pirate freighters and cruisers that were gathered here. Vultures, every last one of them. They didnt dare attacking my Kestrel, though. Good for them.
When the ship docked, I got to my quarters and fetched a plasma rifle and a proton blaster and left the ship. I found a turbo-lift and pressed the "5" button.
"Level five: Private quarters," the computer voice said as the doors opened. I got out and looked around. Garibaldis room was in the end of the corridor, to the north. Strangely, the corridor was deserted. Not a single person in sight.
I pressed a button next to a large metal door, and a voice, Michaels voice, said: "Whos there?"
I answered: "Rogan..." The door opened, and I walked in. In the middle of the floor
stood Michael. He ran towards me, and said: "Rogan, Im so glad youre here!"
I gave him a friendly hug, and said: "So...what do you want? What was so important?"
He got a serious look on his face and said:
"Well, its...you better sit down." He paused for a second, allowing me to sit down, before he continued:
"Remember the missions we did for the Confederates some time ago?"
"Yes," I responded.
"Well, I did some similar missions, just some courier missions, a few weeks ago. One day, a `fedofficer came to me and asked if I could do some munitions search-and-retrieve stuff. I accepted the mission, and traveled to a deserted planet to get some parcels containing weapons, at least I was told."
I looked around and said: "Well, what happened?"
"When I got to Stardock Alpha, I discovered that the weapons were biochemical agents for use against the civilians on independent worlds, in order to force them to join the Confederate alliance. I had no idea... I was told they were beam weapons!" He nearly shouted.
"What did you do then?" I said, now more interested.
"I got hold of some documents from a meeting room and took both them and the parcels out here," he answered, "but I had to destroy a ConFed patrol to get away! Now, Im wanted in the Confederate systems, and they have sent bounty hunters after me! They want me dead...six feet under."
I looked him in the eyes and said: "And you want my help?"
"Yes, your ship is a very good ship, and you are one of my best friends. Can you get me out of here?"
He was very desperate now, I could tell.
"I guess so," I answered, uncertain.
"Great! We need to get the parcels from my ship to yours and take the documents to Palshife," he said, with a smile on his face.
I was about to say "lets get the hell out of here" when, suddenly, the door blew up...
(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 03-17-2001).)
