Episode V : The Blade

The sound of industrial work echoed around the cavernous hangar floor, a thousand bodies surged below the wide catwalk bustling among eachother slipping between storage crates and shrink wrapped ship components like beads of oil through conduits. The young gallente rested back against a large metallic framed crate, his virgin, deep blue eyes scanning the row of ships below as he admired the efficiency of the Caldari station's docking and repair teams at work. Ishukone sure were good at what they did. His eyes passed across the docking bay past three Caracal class cruisers, all emblazened with the Ishukone Watch corporate crest. Next was an Enyo class assault frigate, almost near completion, it's chrome like lance supported upon a heavy scaffold as a large jib suspended from the hangar roof at the rear hoisted what appeared to be the aft section of the propulsion system into place. Beside it a gargantuan Raven class battleship floated in defiance of the station's artificial gravity well, casting an immense shadow across the hangar and the myriad of ant like workers and supplies being loaded below. Even over the carnage of noise emitted from the steel-lined canyon below, the soft pulsing of it's shield systems could be heard above all else timed perfectly with the occasional blue shimmering cloud that engulfed the vessel's whole skin, surging across it's surface with the appearence of a tsunami, the blast wave replenishing electrically charged shield particles as it passed. Several members of the repair team sat inside one of it's many lower launch tubes as they snacked on State Issue MRE packs, lost in a vast tunnel almost a hundred times their own height, which in space would reign the fire of Inferno Torpedos from the depths of the ship's core. Beside it, almost overshadowed by it's immense size but equal in stature and importance in the eyes of the staff swarming around it, rested a Zealot class heavy assault cruiser. It's outer hull, scorched, blemished, seams buckled and surface plating torn away, still glistened in places almost in defiance of those who had failed to destroy it not an hour eariler. It would take a lot to make her spaceworthy again, both credits and work wise. The callsign "Devotion" was etched into the chrome plating of her single armored port side wing. Ice blue eyes skipped across the other array of frigates and cruisers that scattered the hangar floor into the distance, the Gallente releasing the top button of his knee length deep black leather trench coat as his neck craned to view the far end of the hangar beyond. Nothing special in that direction. He smiled to himself, inhaling the scent emitted from hide of the new coat as he slipped his hand into one of it's deep pockets. They had failed again. Idiots. Six ships, five of which were heavier classes than his own, and still they had failed to bring him down. The gallente chuckled to himself, his smile giving way slighty to reveal bright white teeth as he scratched the stubble forming on the base of his chin, watching a group of kids peering over the rail not more than a few meters away. There were five of them total, fresh faced and all but one Caldari, presumably family members of the station staff aboard. The fifth child was Matari, a heavily built kid, probably the same as his father, damn those bastards hit hard when they swung a punch. The first audible pre-pubescent voice was heard as they moved closer "No way man, I'm telling you, they have six launchers, and they can flatten a cruiser in one go man, I've see it on HoloVid, they're evil, nothing matches them." The voice came from the smaller of the pack, a young, close cropped Caldari kid, no more than twelve years old as he stabbed the air toward the Raven lying in dock with glee. A second spoke up. "Yeah what you want is one of the fancy Navy ones though, even more firepower. I'm gonna fly one of those one day, you wait, I'm gonna be famous just like my dad." He beamed as he spoke, stretching his neck with confidence as he adjusted the collar of his neatly pressed white shirt. The kid was no more than fifteen, a typical well bred Caldari with the ambition of fame and fortune flying in defense of the Caldari State. The gallente chuckled as he eavesdropped, peering at the group from beneath a dark blue peaked hat. The matari was next to offer his expert opinion. "Yeah whatever man, a Tempest class could flatten that mass produced State piece of shit in a minute flat. You ever seen GalNet? My pa lets me watch the Egger videos sometimes, straight feeds from combat drones showing what the ships really do. Those things don't stand a chance when you get out in the real world, with pirates and killers." He laughed to himself, his voice had an air of maturity for his age, probably due to his build. The gallente glanced over with a smile, the young matari kid noticing his observer's amusement from a distance and eyeing him with a shrug. The quieter of the Caldari kids shook his head as he spoke, his face frowned definatly as he swept his arm swiftly in front of him, he stepped forward toward the Brutor with almost a look of rage in his eyes, jabbing at the air as he spoke, much to the matari's amusement. "That's a pack of shit, man pirates are no better than the Fedo's that clean the shit off the hull of an industrial. Some day I'm gonna be out there killing them all, they're gonna know the fucking name of Kekral Inama. They're gonna run from my missiles and hide, all of em." He turned back to his Caldari brothers, as if addressing a board of directors, pacing as he spoke. The matari behind him could barely subdue his laughter. "I got all those fuckers marked out, a list of names I'm going after. I'll kill em all, just you wait." The Brutor once again cought his attention as he spoke, laughter in his voice. "Sure hero, and who you gonna kill with your state issue Ibis, even if you DO pass the trials for a Pod? Man, you'll never make it out of a dock alive... who's your list of names... you even know what a pirate is?" The other four caldari were amused by the battle of words thrown around, resting against the handrail as they talked among themselves, smiling and laughing as the two heros duked it out. The Caldari spoke up : "Yeah man, I see em all the time on GalNet, throwing their weight around, thinking they're all the shit. I got every one of em marked down, and a Bane 'opedo with all their names on it. First I'm goin' for that Tekka guy, he's gonna feel the pain for makin the state look so bad. Then I'm goin for Tbone, he's gonna get it too. Then I'm savin the most pleasureable till last. I'm goin for Verone, and his bitch wingman woman. They'll all die sooner or later, and I'm comin home a rich man with a distinguished service medal and a crapload of Credits." The gallente's smile broadened as he listened, the Matari child's bellowing laughter drawing attention from bystanders and passing commuters on the wide catwalk. "You think you even got a chance? Those guys would tear you a new ass just by looking at you man, I've seen some of the stuff all three have been involved with, you'd never get past the first one, quit bullshittin' man. Not even a tempest could flatten those guys." The first Caldari kid spoke up again, his peers egging him on as he did "Whatever man, most of the Republic's fleet is built from the leftovers of everyone else anyway. Have you see the state of some of the trash they call ships? Man, they'd never pass a flight check in the State Navy." The four other Caldari kids roared with laughter as the gallente kept his distance smiling at the war of words, knowing that one day the war between these kids would probably be fought with cruise missiles and heavy artilliery. The Matari continued. "You wanna go threatening the wife of a known murderer, man gimme a break. Ethan Verone would board your ship and cut your head off before you could get outta there alive. You hear about the last guy who threatened his woman? He cut off his fingers so I hear, all of em, and sent him on his way. Told him if he ever come back he'd kill his whole family." The larger of the Caldari kids gave the dark skinned Brutor a playful shove, speaking as he did so : "I'll kill em all Rufo, and one day when you're going down in flames and the sticky tape holding your Tempest together starts to tear off, I'll be there to pick up your wreckage and sell it to Perkone so they can recycle it into cans for Starsi. Hell I'll even tractor in your pod and sell you to the Imperial navy as a dockhand, you'd do good lifting boxes with a vitoc habit, Mr Muscles!" The Caldari group all burst into roaring laughter simoultanelously, throwing their heads back as the sucked in the freshly air-conditioned atmopshere high up on the catwalk, probably a lot different to that which the dock workers below were breathing. The Gallente shook his head as he watched an automated loading crane thunder by, suspended from the ceiling by cablework thicker than a human torso, it's cargo swinging somewhere below out of sight. He knew what was coming and he was right. No sooner had the Caldari got his final words out and began to laugh the Brutor extended an arm, his vice like grip tightening around the young Caldari's throat as he pushed him towards the edge of the catwalk. The gallente looked over, grinning broadly as she shook his head. Rufo moved his dark skinned face close to Kekral's has he hung his head and upper torso over the edge of the vast cavern below, the young Civire's feet clean off the ground as his hands scrabbled for grip around the broad powerful wrist that encircled his throat. His friends watched on. "Some day, ya caldari fucker I'm gonna be shootin' at you. And you're gonna feel the pain. It's gonna be like this when you ship comes apart around you and you stop mockin' me. You're gonna beg me to stop. Hear me, ya bastard?" "Ru...Fo.." Kekral's face began to turn blue as the Gallente stood upright from his resting position against the frame, ambling towards the group slowly. "Rufo, I... c... breathe, you..." Rufo looked down at the pale Caldari's eyes, filled with tears and fear. His own were burning, almost singeing the skin off the face of the insolent bastard who'd mocked his bloodline, and him. A lightly tanned, well manicured hand softly encircled Rufo's wrist and a voice came from beside him, soft and heavily accented with Gallentean. "Let him down, I think you've done enough." Rufo looked up at the Gallente, not much taller than himself, maybe 5'9, 5'10 or so as he let loose of the Kekral's throat, causing him to slump to the floor, clutching at his neck and gasping for air as his peers crowded to his aid. Rufo looked up at the Gallente, his face partly obscured by the cap he wore as he spoke. "Mister, don't report me to the security, the guy had me goin' all day and he won't let up..." "I'm not gonna rat on you Rufo, I see stuff like this all the time... Plus, I'd hardly want to walk into the security office and tell em anything, with my track record." The Gallente beamed from under the hat, white teeth shining in the darkness as he glanced down at the confused Brutor. "I'll cut you a deal kid, eh? You don't tell em about me, I don't tell em about you, how's that sound?" Rufo looked even more puzzled than before as he spoke warily. "What you mean, mister?" The gallente smiled, unbuttoning his long black coat and sliding one side of it behind his arm to reveal a 10.5mm caliber Caldari Navy Infantry issue automatic pistol in a pancake holster on the left side of his chest. That was not what cought Rufo's eyes as the coat parted revealing the Gallente's attire. The jump suit worn by a pod pilot is what cought is eye, but this one was different. Black, with a scarlet stripe a couple of inches wide around the waist, the belt buckle emblazened with the corporate logo of known Exremist Pirate corp "Veto". Rufo took a step back, his eyes tracking up to the gallente's smiling face, stopping only to realise the name on the armored breastplate of the suit. "Verone, Ethan". By now the caldari kids were sure their assaulted friend was going to live, and had turned their attention to the new member of the party. They stood silently, eyeing up the Gallente as he spoke to Rufo. "You know, you did pretty good there... they were what, 4 on one, and you still creamed the one you wanted to get. I like that." His accent was still heavy, but he spoke with a soft, calm voice. Rufo began to grin, his head held high as the four Caldari kids joined him at his side, Kekral still rubbing his throat, which was now reddened because of the heavy grip. Ethan smiled as he spoke, glancing across at the young matari. "You'll make it one day Rufo, and when you do I recon you're going to be a hell of a pilot with that kind of agression. That's the problem you see..." He eyed up the four Caldari who listened in in anticpation. "...people like these four are all mouth, no balls my friend. They'll talk..." Ethan glanced to Kekral as he spoke, his eyes searching his expression as a loading hoist rumbled past behind him, the catwalk vibrating as he continued. "They'll talk, but when they come face to face with what they talk about, they lose it." Ethan smiled as he removed his cap, confirming his identity with the presentation of his characteristic pink fringe, constrasted against the rest of his deep brown hair. "Keep doing what you do, Rufo, and one day you're going to make an excellent pilot." He reached inside his coat, fishing around in the lining as he smiled, producing a four inch long flickknife. Careful fingers removed it from it's wrapping, the black ivory like hilt embossed in crimson with the Veto Corp logo. Kekral jumped in his uneasyness as Ethan flicked open the knife with a defined click, holding it in his palm as he offered it into the view of Rufo. The blade was similar to that of a combat knife, serrated on the reverse side and painfully sharp on the front with a cuved tip. It also had the Veto logo diamond etched into it's surface. Ethan turned to Kekral as he spoke, still with the knife in front of Rufo. "And you, you need to rethink your attitude and cut the arrogance. A smart mouth is nice. But a smart and acidic mouth will get you killed. I was gonna let him drop you over the edge there, but I recon if you're going to come after me in a few years, well... I'd rather take care of you myself kid." The gallente replaced his hat as he smiled to Rufo, buttoning up the front of his coat. He wiped the knife down with a hankerchief before snapping it shut, and holding it by the hinge end in the hankerchief, offered it to the matari child as he spoke. Kekral looked uneasy, his eyes cast down to the floor as he traced the outline of a random shape into the cold steel with the tip of his foot. "Take it, you've earned it Rufo. Along with my respect. If you decide to take up the life of an Egger, and feel that working for me is something you'd enjoy... Well, I think you're resourceful enough to find me." Verone smiled as he glanced at Rufo, the four Caldari silent, awestruck as he reached forward and obtained the knife. He glanced at it, gripping it tightly in his palm as he smiled broadly. "Oh I'll be an Egger some day, just you watch me!" Rufo beamed. "I'm sure you will, and a hell of a one at that. Take care of yourself man." Ethan smiled as he spoke, and turned on his heal to walk, the trails of his long coat whipping around behind him. He stopped after a couple of steps. "Hey Rufo..." The Brutor looked up from examining the knife with a broad grin, the four caldari crowded around him repeated his movement. "It was only one finger... and he was Amarrian... he fucking deserved it." Verone grinned, replacing his hat and winking to the young Matari as he turned to walk away, Rufo beaming back. Seconds later he had vanished, the tails of the long coat trailing behind him as he dispersed into a myriad of dock workers and commuters on the catwalk, leaving the five children to think... and wonder.