Bastion: Barracuda - Chapter One - Red Rum

Bastion: Barracuda

-Chapter One-

-Red Rum-

Europa. A new part of the galaxy, a shard of what was, floating through space, a chunk of rock that has become home to millions of people. Space stations, trade lines; it was becoming the peak in commerce across the galaxy. Thousands of ships encircling it as it orbited Prime II, a star that burnt blue. One of these ships being the Bastion, docked with a Nubia Trade Vessel in close negotiations.

“Now my friend, it is an easy delivery; a favour among comrades.”

“We are not comrades, Rum. I owe you this and then we are done.” Frank said, his eyes fixed on Rum’s. Frank was the Captain of the ship, a leader for the crew. He was a tall man, his shoulders and arms were tough and rugged, his age not slowing him down or making him soft. His age did, however, infect his hairline, leaving streaks of white through his short black hair, short was how he liked it, no frilly curls or ponytails. The forces neat and tidy look was good enough for him; even if that was a time he wanted to forget.

“Okay Frank, just one job and then we’re square. You need to deliver the cargo to the third moon of Pura IV. There you will meet my contact and he will take the cargo.” Rum said.

“Pura IV? Why would he be there?” Pura IV was an abandoned planet, the oceans becoming too dangerous to inhabit. A planet people rarely visit due to it lying outside of the Europa Rim.

They both stood inside of the cockpit, a fairly small two seat area, one for the pilot and the other one for whoever dared to try and help her. Lights and displays flickered as they spoke, the wiring old; botched repairs keeping it all together. The Bastion was an extinct ship, the last in the universe. Technically it wasn’t even a Vanguard Class British Warship anymore, modules added to it and pieces replaced. It was a mismatched ship, a ship with multiple identities. But that didn’t matter to Frank, the crew have urged him to upgrade but this was his ship, she has kept him alive for this long. War was not its objective anymore; those days are few and far between. The Bastion is now a cargo ship, a smugglers haven, to deliver dangerous and possibly illegal cargo to the depths of the galaxy.

“Don’t ask me, that’s where he said he’ll be.” Rum said, his twitchy face gave off a sinister impression but Frank was undaunted, he had dealt with Rum before, he was no threat. The negotiations were always short; Frank was not one for small talk.

“My men should already be prepping the cargo for your ship.” Rum said, Frank nodded. Frank walked Rum to the exit; he stepped out into the metal corridor. It was cramped and stuffy, Rum walked towards the end of the passageway and stopped between the frame.

“And another thing, don’t open the cargo, under any circumstances. Oh and I’m going to leave my son here to oversee the drop.” He winked at Frank and left. His short stature became less apparent as he walked away from the intimidating frame of Frank. This was a common request by his contacts, most cargo was valuable or sentimental, some can even be dangerous but this was different somehow. The hairs on the back of Frank’s neck tickled and he scrunched his eyebrows.

Liz ticked the final box on her checklist, and shooed away the moving men who had fork-lifted the cargo into her cargo bay. Liz didn’t have a title on the ship, her duties reprising of admin and deal brokering with clients less inclined to talk to Frank. His nature making them nervous, the taste of sweat in their mouths making them uncomfortable. She was second in command, the rest of the crew respecting her enough to take her orders. The crew wasn’t large, Frank liked to keep it tight knit, it made keeping control easy. Any fat was cut away, only those imperative to keeping the ship in the air were kept.

A teenage boy wandered onto the ship, he grazed his hand across the cargo as he continued up the ramp.

“What are you doing here?” Liz said, as she brushed her dark blonde hair behind her ears.

“I’m here to accompany the cargo.”

“You’re not on my list so you’ll have to turn around and bother someone else.” Liz said, she ignored him and carried on reading through the paperwork.

“Excuse me! Do you know who you’re speaking to?” He said, his back was straight and his eyes flared up. He was only nineteen and the world owed him everything. Liz turned and looked at him, she was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Is this boy bothering you?” Harvard said. He climbed down the staging onto the cargo deck and moved towards the boy. He was a brute of a man, his mind set on violence regardless of the situation. He always wore an ammo bandolier across his chest and holstered a pulse pistol to his leg, his name was Charles Lewis but the crew called him Harvard. A name he didn’t fully understand.

“Yeah he is.”

“No wait a minute…” The boy said, Harvard lunged at him and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt; he pulled him up off of the ground and held him there. “Hey! Let go of me!” Liz pulled her eyes away from her clipboard and smiled at Harvard.

“What’s your name kid?” She said.

“Gomez! Angelo Gomez!” He panted, looking in fright at Harvard as he held him in the air without fault.

“You’re Rum’s boy?”

“Yes, he asked me to stay with the cargo to make sure that it is delivered safely.” He said. Liz nodded to Harvard and he dropped him on his feet, Gomez stumbled and brushed the arrogance off of his shoulders.

“We don’t need babysitting Gomez, off you go.” Liz said.

“But…” Liz gestured to Harvard again causing Gomez to flinch.

“What’s going on down here?” Frank called from on top of the gantry looking over the cargo hold.

“Just kicking out a vagrant.”

“The boy stays, I’ve already spoken to Rum.”

“But…”

“Enough. Now stop screwing around and get back to work.” Frank said, his voice stern and unyielding. He let go of the gantry barrier and exited the cargo hold.

Frank continued down the metal passageway, past the dining room, towards his quarters. He stopped outside his room’s door, it had a round wheel in the centre of it and you had to turn it like a valve to unlock the door, it would take a nuclear weapon to break through one of these high grade titanium doors. He could hear breathing coming from behind him, he turned to find nothing, he focused his hearing and squinted his eyes slightly. He looked up.

“Hi.” Rocky whispered, as she looked down on Frank.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” He said, shaking his head and grabbing hold of the turn wheel. Rocky had her hands and feet spread out and pushed against the walls of the corridor. She smiled and dropped down to the floor.

“You’re grumpy today.” She mocked,giving him a light punch on the arm. Rocky was the pilot of the ship, she had the reflexes and tactical ingenuity of a veteran pilot and she was only fourteen. Frank took her under his care when she was very young and he taught her how to fly. The Bastion becoming mother of another estranged traveller.

“It’s Rum, there was something in that look he gave me.”

“A look?” Rocky raised an eyebrow.

“Yes a look.” Frank said, pushing her back. Rocky was one of the few members on the crew that was able to talk to him in such a way. She was unique.

“Well then cancel the drop.” She said, naively.

“We can’t, one I owe him for that business on Catalan Prime and two; we need the currency. This ship is falling apart and when was the last time you ate a full meal?” Frank huffed. Not waiting for her to answer, he turned the wheel and entered his quarters. Rocky sighed but forgot about it pretty quickly and began skipping down the passageway to the cockpit. She sat down on the swivel chair and put her feet up. A loud crackle echoed in the cockpit as the intercom buzzed, she leant back on her chair and held down the button.

“What do ya need?” Rocky said, using her other hand to pull her short blue hair to her mouth.

“Cargo’s in place, ready to go.” Liz’s voice crackled through the intercom from the cargo hold. Rocky steadied herself on the chair and leant forwards, grabbing hold of the control stick. She tapped a combination of buttons and the navigation display projected onto the front view screen. She licked her fingers and cracked her knuckles. She always wore a bracelet as a lucky charm, she chewed on it as she spoke to people, the edges worn and scratched. She kissed it.

“This is where the fun begins.” She said, pushing hard on the throttle.