Cassandra's Tears: Issue #7 - [Comm-Links](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links) - Cassandra's Tears: Issue #7 Cassandra's Tears: Issue #7 =========================== Undefined Undefined Cassandra's Tears [Previous](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/12821) [Next](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/12823) Content ------- English Penny stared at her blank SysBook. It was totally dead. It wouldn’t even turn on. This was not happening, not after all she went through to customize this rig. Over the next few hours, she disassembled it and checked every inch of circuitry and wire. Nothing seemed blown, broken, or even frayed. While she admitted to herself that the crash was a direct result of accessing classified files, she discounted it for two reasons. One, the files on the Cassandra project were fifty years old, and two, she never heard of a way to one-shot an intruding system remotely, not without giving her some kind of warning. Hour four passed and the frustration had really started to set in. “Lt. Penelope Ayala.” A voice said from the doorway. “What!” She snapped as she whirled toward the door. Three MP’s were standing there. “Oh.” * * * * The pirate crew of the Constellation class ship called the Phoenix slept. Nesser was supposed to be flying but, based on the snores that reverberated from the helm, his drink had gotten the better of him. Before turning in, they handcuffed Cal Mason to the wall between the cockpit and the forward docking collars. He started to memorize storage bays, where tools were kept, anything that could come in handy if this situation turns sour. Currently, he was on the lookout for anything that could double as a lockpick. A beeping from the helm pulled Cal away from his search. Nesser snored through it. Finally, Cal heard the door that led to the cargo hold and quarters open. Sasha walked up to the helm and shut off the alert. Trunk followed. “Get him the hell out of here.” Sasha said. Trunk yanked Nesser out of the pilot seat and Sasha took his place. “What the hell, man?” Nesser slurred before Trunk dumped him onto the floor by Cal. “Stay down.” Trunk put a foot on Nesser’s chest and pointed, “When we touch down, we pay you off and you’re gone. Got it?” “We’re getting close.” Sasha said. Trunk nodded. Then they both looked at Cal. “Get up.” Trunk said. Cal stood. Trunk unlocked the cuffs from the wall then re-cuffed his hands together while Sasha dug a pistol out of her locker and charged it. She pulled Cal into the back of the ship where the cargo was being stored. He saw the familiar outline of P52 stowed in the floor among the stacks of cargo. Cal had flown a smaller variant of the short-range fighter back when he was at the Home. That one was a starter ship, a kid’s model, but to him, it was escape. Over the years, he got to know that baby inside out. Cal caught a glimpse of Mahony, the ship’s mechanic, watching from the sleeping quarters. Sasha stopped at a stack of crates. She opened a hidden panel and punched a code. A door popped open with a hiss. All of the separate cargo crates were in fact one big empty smuggling container. Sasha motioned inside with the pistol. Cal scoped it out before he stepped inside. She followed and Trunk sealed it. This container was recently used to smuggle people. There was already a stool and an empty bucket that had an odor about it. Unfortunately for Cal, he was on the bucket side of the container. “Grab a seat.” Sasha said with a smirk. Cal flipped the bucket with his foot and sat down. Sasha sat across from him, the pistol leveled at him. “Won’t your crew need you?” Cal said as he sank down on the bucket. “I think they can handle it. Besides, if Customs catches me on a scan…” Sasha sighed, “let’s just say, it’ll be problematic.” “Maybe the criminal lifestyle doesn’t agree with you.” “Oh no. It suits me fine. Besides, give it a month or two and they’ll forget. You guys always do.” “Come on. Always looking over your shoulder? Not knowing who to trust? That’s no way to live.” “Right, because living and dying at the whim of UEE overlords is really the way to go.” “It’s an honest life.” Cal said without hesitation. Sasha stared at him for a second before chuckling. “Well, as someone who’s seen the receiving end of UEE bombs on Cathcart, you can call it a life if you want but don’t you dare call it honest.” * * * * A horde of ships coalesced into the roughest semblance of a line at the border to the Banu Protectorate. UEE Customs performed a thorough examination before granting access to the jump-point. AutoTurrets and Drones covered every inch of the distance between the checkpoint and the jump-point to prevent runners. The line of ships, most of them traders and haulers, inched forward. The Phoenix slowly drifted toward the jump-point. Trunk was at the controls. Nesser paced around behind him and gnawed on his fingernails. Finally it was their turn. The Phoenix glided toward the checkpoint. A Customs Agent appeared over the Comms. Trunk uploaded the tags. The ship’s body hummed as scanners moved across it. * * * * Back in the container, Cal and Sasha glared at each other. They both looked up when they heard the scanners. Sasha looked back at Cal first. “Look, once we get through, we’re going to make a decision about what to do with you.” She said quickly, “The majority is leaning towards the airlock.” “I see.” “But you have a choice.” she hesitated for a moment, “Come with us.” “What?” Cal didn’t see that one coming. “You saw Nesser, he’s on the outs. We could use someone like you.” Her emerald eyes almost glowed, despite the dimmed light. “Without the rules and orders, life’s wild, unpredictable, passionate. And who knows, maybe you’ll like it. If not, earn your keep for a couple months and you can go back.” “You’re asking me to abandon my friends, my ship, my duty, to save my own life?” Cal actually looked like he was considering it. “If it keeps you out of the airlock, sure.” Sasha shrugged and grinned, “It’s not like they’d ever have to know.” “I’d know.” Cal looked her in the eye, any hint that he considered this proposition utterly vanished. “And that’s enough.” The scanning stopped. They heard the engines kick in. There was that familiar lurch of the stomach of passing through the jump-point. Cal and Sasha returned back to their respective glares. After several minutes, the compartment door hissed and opened. Trunk was there. Sasha pushed past him. Trunk pulled Cal to his feet and brought him back into the cargo hold. Sasha stowed her pistol back at her bunk. Trunk held Cal firm and looked to her. “What’s the verdict?” He said. Sasha was quiet for a moment or two. She looked back at Cal. He stared right back, defiant. “Kill him.” . . . TO BE CONTINUED Penny starrte auf ihr leeres SysBook. Es war total tot. Es wollte sich nicht einmal einschalten. Das passierte nicht, schließlich ging sie nicht durch, um dieses Rigg anzupassen. In den nächsten Stunden zerlegte sie es und überprüfte jeden Zentimeter der Schaltung und des Kabels. Nichts schien geblasen, gebrochen oder gar ausgefranst zu sein. Während sie sich selbst gegenüber zugab, dass der Absturz eine direkte Folge des Zugriffs auf geheime Dateien war, diskontierte sie ihn aus zwei Gründen. Erstens, die Dateien über das Kassandra-Projekt waren fünfzig Jahre alt, und zweitens, sie hat noch nie von einem Weg gehört, ein eindringendes System aus der Ferne zu erschießen, nicht ohne sie irgendwie zu warnen. Die vierte Stunde verging und die Frustration hatte wirklich begonnen. "Lt. Penelope Ayala." Eine Stimme sagte vom Eingang aus. " Was!" Sie schnappte zu, als sie zur Tür wirbelte. Drei Abgeordnete standen da. " Oh." * * * * Die Piratenbesatzung des Schiffes der Konstellationsklasse namens Phoenix schlief. Nesser sollte fliegen, aber aufgrund des Schnarchens, das vom Steuer aus nachhallte, war sein Getränk besser geworden. Bevor sie einlenkten, fesselten sie Cal Mason an die Wand zwischen dem Cockpit und den vorderen Andockhalsbändern. Er fing an, sich Lagerplätze zu merken, in denen Werkzeuge aufbewahrt wurden, alles, was nützlich sein könnte, wenn diese Situation sauer wird. Derzeit war er auf der Suche nach allem, was sich als Dietrich erweisen könnte. Ein Piepen vom Helm zog Cal von seiner Suche ab. Nesser schnarchte durch sie hindurch. Schließlich hörte Cal die Tür, die zum Laderaum führte und das Quartier öffnete. Sasha ging zum Helm und schaltete den Alarm aus. Der Kofferraum folgte. "Schaff ihn verdammt nochmal hier raus." Sagte Sasha. Der Kofferraum zog Nesser aus dem Pilotensitz und Sasha übernahm seinen Platz. "Was zum Teufel, Mann?" Nesser meckerte, bevor Trunk ihn von Cal auf den Boden warf. " Bleib unten." Der Kofferraum setzte einen Fuß auf Nessers Brust und zeigte: "Wenn wir landen, zahlen wir dich aus und du bist weg. Verstanden?" "Wir sind nah dran." Sagte Sasha. Der Kofferraum nickte. Dann sahen sie beide Cal an. " Steh auf." sagte Kofferraum. Cal stand auf. Rüssel öffnete die Manschetten von der Wand und fesselte dann seine Hände wieder zusammen, während Sasha eine Pistole aus ihrem Schließfach grub und sie auflud. Sie zog Cal in den hinteren Teil des Schiffes, wo die Ladung gelagert wurde. Er sah den vertrauten Umriss von P52, der im Boden zwischen den Ladungsstapeln verstaut war. Cal hatte eine kleinere Variante des Kurzstreckenjägers zurück geflogen, als er im Home war. Das war ein Startschiff, ein Kindermodell, aber für ihn war es eine Flucht. Im Laufe der Jahre lernte er das Baby auf den ersten Blick kennen. Cal erhaschte einen Blick auf Mahony, den Mechaniker des Schiffes, der von den Schlafräumen aus zusah. Sasha hielt an einem Stapel Kisten an. Sie öffnete ein verstecktes Feld und stieß einen Code ein. Eine Tür sprang mit einem Zischen auf. Alle einzelnen Frachtkisten waren in Wirklichkeit ein großer leerer Schmugglercontainer. Sasha bewegte sich mit der Pistole nach innen. Cal hat es herausgeschnitten, bevor er reingetreten ist. Sie folgte und Trunk versiegelte es. Dieser Container wurde kürzlich benutzt, um Menschen zu schmuggeln. Es gab bereits einen Hocker und einen leeren Eimer, der einen Geruch hatte. Leider für Cal, war er auf der Eimerseite des Containers. "Setz dich hin." sagte Sasha mit einem Grinsen. Cal drehte den Eimer mit dem Fuß um und setzte sich. Sasha setzte sich ihm gegenüber, die Pistole richtete sich auf ihn. "Wird deine Crew dich nicht brauchen?" sagte Cal, als er auf den Eimer sank. "Ich denke, sie können damit umgehen. Außerdem, wenn der Zoll mich auf einem Scan erwischt...." Sasha seufzte: "Sagen wir einfach, es wird problematisch werden." "Vielleicht stimmt der kriminelle Lebensstil nicht mit dir überein." "Oh nein. Es steht mir gut. Außerdem, gib ihm ein oder zwei Monate und sie werden es vergessen. Das tut ihr immer." "Komm schon. Immer über die Schulter schauen? Sie wissen nicht, wem Sie vertrauen können? Das ist keine Art zu leben." "Richtig, denn nach der Laune der UEE-Oberherren zu leben und zu sterben ist wirklich der richtige Weg." "Es ist ein ehrliches Leben." sagte Cal ohne zu zögern. Sasha starrte ihn für eine Sekunde an, bevor er kicherte. "Nun, als jemand, der das Ende der UEE-Bomben auf Cathcart gesehen hat, kann man es ein Leben nennen, wenn man will, aber wage es nicht, es ehrlich zu nennen." * * * * Eine Horde von Schiffen verschmolz zu dem rauesten Anschein einer Linie an der Grenze zum Banu-Protektorat. Der UEE-Zoll hat eine gründliche Prüfung durchgeführt, bevor er den Zugang zum Jump-Point gewährte. AutoTurrets und Drohnen legten jeden Zentimeter der Strecke zwischen dem Kontrollpunkt und dem Sprungpunkt zurück, um Läufer zu verhindern. Die Schiffslinie, die meisten von ihnen Händler und Schlepper, entwickelte sich nach vorne. Der Phönix trieb langsam auf den Sprungpunkt zu. Der Kofferraum war an der Steuerung. Nesser schritt hinter ihm herum und nagte an seinen Fingernägeln. Schließlich waren sie an der Reihe. Der Phönix glitt auf den Kontrollpunkt zu. Ein Zollagent erschien über den Comms. Trunk hat die Tags hochgeladen. Der Schiffskörper brummte, als sich die Scanner über ihn bewegten. * * * * Zurück im Container starrten sich Cal und Sasha an. Sie sahen beide auf, als sie die Scanner hörten. Sasha blickte zuerst zu Cal zurück. "Schau, sobald wir fertig sind, werden wir eine Entscheidung treffen, was wir mit dir machen sollen." Sie sagte schnell: "Die Mehrheit lehnt sich an die Luftschleuse an." "Ich verstehe." "Aber du hast die Wahl." Sie zögerte einen Moment, "Komm mit uns." " Was?" Cal hat das nicht kommen sehen. "Du hast Nesser gesehen, er ist auf der Flucht. Wir könnten jemanden wie dich gebrauchen." Ihre smaragdgrünen Augen strahlten trotz des abgedunkelten Lichts fast. "Ohne die Regeln und Anweisungen ist das Leben wild, unberechenbar, leidenschaftlich. Und wer weiß, vielleicht gefällt es dir ja. Wenn nicht, verdiene deinen Lebensunterhalt für ein paar Monate und du kannst zurückgehen." "Du bittest mich, meine Freunde, mein Schiff, meine Pflicht aufzugeben, um mein eigenes Leben zu retten?" Cal sah tatsächlich so aus, als würde er es in Betracht ziehen. "Wenn es dich aus der Luftschleuse hält, sicher." Sasha zuckte mit den Achseln und grinste: "Es ist ja nicht so, dass sie es jemals wissen müssten." "Ich würde es wissen." Cal sah ihr in die Augen, jeder Hinweis, dass er diesen Vorschlag für völlig verschwunden hielt. "Und das ist genug." Der Scanvorgang wurde gestoppt. Sie hörten, wie die Motoren einschalteten. Es gab dieses vertraute Ruckeln des Magens, wenn man durch den Sprungpunkt ging. Cal und Sasha kehrten zu ihren jeweiligen Strahlen zurück. Nach einigen Minuten zischte die Abteiltür und öffnete sich. Der Kofferraum war da. Sasha drängte an ihm vorbei. Der Kofferraum zog Cal auf die Beine und brachte ihn zurück in den Frachtraum. Sasha verstaute ihre Pistole wieder in ihrer Koje. Der Kofferraum hielt Cal fest und sah zu ihr. "Wie lautet das Urteil?" Sagte er. Sasha war für ein oder zwei Augenblicke still. Sie blickte zu Cal zurück. Er starrte gleich zurück, trotzig. "Töte ihn." . . . WIRD FORTGESETZT Penny stared at her blank SysBook. It was totally dead. It wouldn’t even turn on. This was not happening, not after all she went through to customize this rig. Over the next few hours, she disassembled it and checked every inch of circuitry and wire. Nothing seemed blown, broken, or even frayed. While she admitted to herself that the crash was a direct result of accessing classified files, she discounted it for two reasons. One, the files on the Cassandra project were fifty years old, and two, she never heard of a way to one-shot an intruding system remotely, not without giving her some kind of warning. Hour four passed and the frustration had really started to set in. “Lt. Penelope Ayala.” A voice said from the doorway. “What!” She snapped as she whirled toward the door. Three MP’s were standing there. “Oh.” * * * * The pirate crew of the Constellation class ship called the Phoenix slept. Nesser was supposed to be flying but, based on the snores that reverberated from the helm, his drink had gotten the better of him. Before turning in, they handcuffed Cal Mason to the wall between the cockpit and the forward docking collars. He started to memorize storage bays, where tools were kept, anything that could come in handy if this situation turns sour. Currently, he was on the lookout for anything that could double as a lockpick. A beeping from the helm pulled Cal away from his search. Nesser snored through it. Finally, Cal heard the door that led to the cargo hold and quarters open. Sasha walked up to the helm and shut off the alert. Trunk followed. “Get him the hell out of here.” Sasha said. Trunk yanked Nesser out of the pilot seat and Sasha took his place. “What the hell, man?” Nesser slurred before Trunk dumped him onto the floor by Cal. “Stay down.” Trunk put a foot on Nesser’s chest and pointed, “When we touch down, we pay you off and you’re gone. Got it?” “We’re getting close.” Sasha said. Trunk nodded. Then they both looked at Cal. “Get up.” Trunk said. Cal stood. Trunk unlocked the cuffs from the wall then re-cuffed his hands together while Sasha dug a pistol out of her locker and charged it. She pulled Cal into the back of the ship where the cargo was being stored. He saw the familiar outline of P52 stowed in the floor among the stacks of cargo. Cal had flown a smaller variant of the short-range fighter back when he was at the Home. That one was a starter ship, a kid’s model, but to him, it was escape. Over the years, he got to know that baby inside out. Cal caught a glimpse of Mahony, the ship’s mechanic, watching from the sleeping quarters. Sasha stopped at a stack of crates. She opened a hidden panel and punched a code. A door popped open with a hiss. All of the separate cargo crates were in fact one big empty smuggling container. Sasha motioned inside with the pistol. Cal scoped it out before he stepped inside. She followed and Trunk sealed it. This container was recently used to smuggle people. There was already a stool and an empty bucket that had an odor about it. Unfortunately for Cal, he was on the bucket side of the container. “Grab a seat.” Sasha said with a smirk. Cal flipped the bucket with his foot and sat down. Sasha sat across from him, the pistol leveled at him. “Won’t your crew need you?” Cal said as he sank down on the bucket. “I think they can handle it. Besides, if Customs catches me on a scan…” Sasha sighed, “let’s just say, it’ll be problematic.” “Maybe the criminal lifestyle doesn’t agree with you.” “Oh no. It suits me fine. Besides, give it a month or two and they’ll forget. You guys always do.” “Come on. Always looking over your shoulder? Not knowing who to trust? That’s no way to live.” “Right, because living and dying at the whim of UEE overlords is really the way to go.” “It’s an honest life.” Cal said without hesitation. Sasha stared at him for a second before chuckling. “Well, as someone who’s seen the receiving end of UEE bombs on Cathcart, you can call it a life if you want but don’t you dare call it honest.” * * * * A horde of ships coalesced into the roughest semblance of a line at the border to the Banu Protectorate. UEE Customs performed a thorough examination before granting access to the jump-point. AutoTurrets and Drones covered every inch of the distance between the checkpoint and the jump-point to prevent runners. The line of ships, most of them traders and haulers, inched forward. The Phoenix slowly drifted toward the jump-point. Trunk was at the controls. Nesser paced around behind him and gnawed on his fingernails. Finally it was their turn. The Phoenix glided toward the checkpoint. A Customs Agent appeared over the Comms. Trunk uploaded the tags. The ship’s body hummed as scanners moved across it. * * * * Back in the container, Cal and Sasha glared at each other. They both looked up when they heard the scanners. Sasha looked back at Cal first. “Look, once we get through, we’re going to make a decision about what to do with you.” She said quickly, “The majority is leaning towards the airlock.” “I see.” “But you have a choice.” she hesitated for a moment, “Come with us.” “What?” Cal didn’t see that one coming. “You saw Nesser, he’s on the outs. We could use someone like you.” Her emerald eyes almost glowed, despite the dimmed light. “Without the rules and orders, life’s wild, unpredictable, passionate. And who knows, maybe you’ll like it. If not, earn your keep for a couple months and you can go back.” “You’re asking me to abandon my friends, my ship, my duty, to save my own life?” Cal actually looked like he was considering it. “If it keeps you out of the airlock, sure.” Sasha shrugged and grinned, “It’s not like they’d ever have to know.” “I’d know.” Cal looked her in the eye, any hint that he considered this proposition utterly vanished. “And that’s enough.” The scanning stopped. They heard the engines kick in. There was that familiar lurch of the stomach of passing through the jump-point. Cal and Sasha returned back to their respective glares. After several minutes, the compartment door hissed and opened. Trunk was there. Sasha pushed past him. Trunk pulled Cal to his feet and brought him back into the cargo hold. Sasha stowed her pistol back at her bunk. Trunk held Cal firm and looked to her. “What’s the verdict?” He said. Sasha was quiet for a moment or two. She looked back at Cal. He stared right back, defiant. “Kill him.” . . . TO BE CONTINUED Links ----- No links available. Images ------ 1 image/jpeg [ ![](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/dzgf0umox510mr/source/CalMasonFI_Crop.jpg) ](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/dzgf0umox510mr/source/CalMasonFI_Crop.jpg) CalMasonFI_Crop.jpg [Details](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/images/109) Last Modified 12 years ago Size 1.91 MB [Source](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/dzgf0umox510mr/source/CalMasonFI_Crop.jpg) [Info](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/images/109) Metadata -------- CIG ID 12822 Channel Undefined Category Undefined Series Cassandra's Tears Comments 65 Published 13 years ago (2012-11-30T00:00:00+00:00) [RSI Article](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/comm-link/serialized-fiction/12822-Cassandras-Tears-Issue-7) [API](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/api/comm-links/12822)