Pilot profile: Zeck Arrow

[Zeck]

Part 8.1, The shadow and the flame.

"For a one lost in shadows a flame to follow must be given."

"Welcome on board to the legendary Bazaar of Stars, mister Arrow! I am Osman Sandatüruk you spoke earlier with", said the big man who had personally came to welcome the nervous coffee trader.
"The hangar dressing rooms are over there if you would like to change your outfit", Sandatüruk said to Zeck who had just stepped out of his ship and was still wearing his action worn pilot jumpsuit.
"I'm a busy man, mister Sanda... I'm sorry, what was your name again?"
"Sandatüruk. And yes, I know you are a most busy man; trading, fighting the mantis and solving issues in personal life keep you in a constant move, right?"
"What do you refer to with that last part, the personal life stuff?"
"I hope not to upset you in any way. It is only a part of my responsibilities to gather basic intelligence of our associatives", Sandatüruk answered.
"Ok. Can we now get to the proposition you talked about earlier?"
"You know, I too am a busy man, just like you. In my opinion we two are too busy, so all I'm asking for you is to take a half an hour pause from all the hustle around you. My days consist of endless meetings and negotiations that are of a more formal kind, so I thought I would take this one a little bit easier, more like relaxation."
"What do you mean by that?" Zeck asked with growing suspicion about the whole thing being a trap waiting to be triggered.
"Well, firstly, I would like to taste some samples of your products. I assume - I hope you brought some with you?"
"Naturally. I carry a good variety of samples where ever I fly."
"Secondly, I'm asking you to take part in my favourite pass time as we discuss more."
"That pass time being...?"
"Target shooting."
"Target shooting?"
"Yes! This old wreckage of ship carries a shooting range of old times within it, among many other things. It's not a virtual simulation, it's all real, and guess what? I have a collection of old handguns, and when I say old I mean gun powder technology."
"I don't know, I'm not so interested in such a hobby."
"Well, you don't have to shoot, but as my guest I insist you to come along."
"Ok then."

Despite the laser burns he got to his jacket in V2 from the authorities hand lasers, Zeck changed to his casual outfit and they headed for the lower level of the ship where the shooting range was located.
On the way there they took a brief passage along the famous merchant alley that ran split through the long ship. The floor of the bazaar was covered by desert sand as if the whole place was on Earth or similar planet surface.
The air was full of music, chatting, sounds of various mammals, birds and other animals that most people thought would be already vanished from all the life bearing planets, loud shouts of merchants and customers bargaining and haggling, chimes of cash registers, electronic sounds from droids and technical devices, disharmoned singing from karaoke system's loudspeaker, humming of live fires and whoosh of steam.
The air itself was a kaleidoscope of odors; spices, raw fish, ripe fruits and vegetables, incense, animal excrement, aromas from street kitchens, tobacco, parfumes, swet, alcohol, smell of heatened metal
and burning coal from blacksmith's workshop, chilling odor of wet clay sprinkled from potter's wheel, tar, paint, thinner, stench of tripe aside the butchers table and blood on it, smother of electronics being soldered, smell of dust baked by the sun light directed inside the ship through the alley wide windowed roof high abowe, tee, coffee and many many more.
What a sight it was! There was a market for every possible article you could name, well, maybe not for the illegal ones such as slaves, but most likely you could buy just anything from this alley.
Sandatüruk led Zeck to a side door and out of the merchant alley to the stairs to the lower level. After the lively bazaar atmosphere it was suddenly calm in the corridor. The paint on the walls looked old and time-worn. Bazaar of Stars had to be hundreds of years old vessel and some of it's inhabitants must have lived their whole life there. Some families had lived there for generations. It was a world of it's own, gathering cultural influences from every human culture imagined, some of which had already ceased to exist, some of which were only about to bloom. It was no luxory ship with sterile facade and interior, but a ship full of life, not only life that's fresh and vigorous but also the rusty, decaying and moldy side of life.

 

[godman]

good make moreee

 

[defacto]

I have a strange feeling thta this ship willl be blown up by a huge mantis fleet...

Anyways, good story, this is truly the best PG story evar

 

[Zeck]

Part 8.2, The shadow and the flame.

"So you have a martian name and inheritance, am I right?" Sandatüruk asked while loading bullets to an old revolver.
"Correct. My parents are martian, but I was raised on Earth."
"Really? On Earth?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"But why wouldn't I?"
"When was the last time you visited the Earth, mister Arrow?"
"Ah, it's been a good while, I think. Might be it was all the way before the ambush of Convoy 12. Honestly, I can't remember, but I guess they are doing just fine. At least they were when I spoke to them over the communicator."
"Who are?"
"My parents of course."
"Your parents?"
"Yeah, didn't we just speak about them?"
Sandatüruk had loaded his revolver and prepared to shoot the target at some 20-30 meters away.
"Your parents are dead, mister Arrow", he said and emptied the gun.
These were the last generation of gun powdered ammo using pistols and they were evolved to almost silent.
"Yes, they are there. Didn't I just told you?"
"And I said they are dead."
"There?! Excuse me but is there some sort of language barrier issue here or why do you have to repeat it? They are there, there, there, there! Ok?"
"Ok, ok, let's just calm down. Now, would you like to try this?" Sandatüruk asked pointing to the guns on the table and towards the target lane.
The black clad agents had opened hand laser fire towards Zeck in V2 Starbase. He thought maybe this kind of practise would come handy at some point in the future.
"Well, since I'm already here, why not", Zeck answered.
"Great!"
"Just one round."
"One round will be just fine. Please, pick your piece", Sandatüruk said. There was a dozen of guns and separate ammo and clips for them on the side board. "Or would you prefer a bow, mister Arrow?" the big man laughed and made Zeck smile too. But then Sandatüruk went back to asking his peculiar questions: "When was the last time you talked with your parents?"
"I don't quite get your somewhat deep interest in this topic, mister Sandatürek..."
"Excuse me; Sandatüruk. It's -türuk, not -türek."
"My apologies, mister Sandatüruk. I don't remember when I called them the last time, but I guess it was last week. Or the one before. How does this all relate to our business conversation?"
"In a way it does, but we can let it be if that is your wish. Now, let's see if your vehicular blaster skills carry over to hand-eye coordination."
"You say it's all about hand-eye coordination?" Zeck stated and took a clipfull of shots to his target panel. Then he continued his argumentation: "What I've heard and know about shooting is the most important thing is controlling your nerves."
"That is exactly true", Sandatüruk agreed. "I come shooting here regularly, not only to test how my aim is, but also to measure my state of mind. As you said it correlates with the shooting result. Therefore, if my shooting is bad I don't do any big business decisions. When my shooting is good my mind is clear and I trust I can do the right decisions in any particular case. Let's have a look, I would say we have a decent result in your target panel", Sandatüruk said and pressed a button in control unit to bring the target closer. "How did it feel?"
"Strange", Zeck answered.
"Did it feel...familiar?"
"I don't know. I've never fired a gun."
"That is really hard to believe looking at your accuracy, mister Arrow." Sandatüruk smiled watching the dence bunch of bullet holes around the central area of the target panel, and slammed his big hand on Zeck's shoulder.
"I guess I'm a natural talent then. Or it might be just beginner's luck."
"Yes, by the result one might think so. But what is remarkably surprising, regarding you are a novice to this hobby, is that you didn't need any advice choosing the correct clip and ammo for that specific piece of a gun. No advice to prepare the gun either. And there was absolutely nothing to correct in your shooting stance."
"That sounds funny."
"Does it? How about this then - and this is the most interesting and amazing thing: from all of those weapons on that table there you happened to pick that one."
"What's the difference?"
"That's a special model. Only a handfull was ever manufactured and only a certain cast of individuals have the knowledge to prepare that gun for shooting. I, for example, am not able to use that one."
"What do you mean with all that? I'm a superior natural talent or what?"
"Please, look beneath the handle."
Zeck turned the gun upside down and saw initials ZA carved to the bottom of the grip.
"It is your gun, mister Arrow."
"I don't own a gun. I'm getting fed up with this nonsence meeting. I don't know what kind of hoax you are trying here and what for, but if you had any intentions for actual trading now it's about the time."
"I'm so sorry, mister Arrow, I didn't mean..."
"Yeah, yeah. You keep saying you don't mean to upset me and all you do is tempt my nerves. Oh whatever! I'm taking my leave now. You may keep the coffee sample case. If you taste anything you like, contact me again, ok?"
"Ok, ok. Right. What about the gun?"
"The gun?"
"You're not going to take it with you?"
"No. No, I don't want it! I don't own a gun and I don't want that piece! Good luck with your efforts and good bye mister Sandatüruk."
Zeck left the shooting range and the Bazaar of Stars.

 

[defacto]

I'm glued to the screen when reading this...

 

[Zeck]

Part 8.3, The shadow and the flame.

"That didn't go too well..." Sandatüruk said. It looked like he was talking to himself for he was left alone in the shooting range. But a voice in the communicator answered to him.
"Don't blame yourself, Osman, you did well. There was no way to know what kind of Arrow would hit us today", the voice recited. It was a human voice that had some kind of ancient tone in it, like someone speaking asleep.
"Did you monitor the whole meeting, sir?"
"Yes. Of course"
"So, what would you say about the man?" Sandatüruk asked.
"I don't know what they have done to him but he is not like the Zeck I once knew, not at all. The surface looks the same, but the spirit is gone."
"Gone or hidden. That's what I thought too, you know, by the material I've read and learned about him, I've naturally never met him before."
"What is your professional view on him, Osman?" the voice asked.
"Did you notice how effectively his mind dodged the news that his parents are deceased?"
"Yes, it was like he heard what you said, but understood it only partially. Or in a way more suitable for some other kind of truth or reality."
"Exactly. A man's mind is a powerfull tool, a device that can be programmed to understand the same reality in different ways; I say 'dead' and he hears 'there'. Or actually he hears 'dead' but his own mind converts it to 'there'. His mind can, and will, passively adjust anything that he hears, sees, experiences or remembers to fit the reality the FICE have fed him."
"Do you think he's a chip zombie?" the still anonymous voice asked? Chip zombie was a name used for those who had some sort of electronics installed for controlling purposes to their bodies, mainly to their brains.
"No, I don't think they've used any mechanical or surgical alterations on him. I guess they still have some respect for his humanity. And that's all the good news I can tell about his state, sir."
"What do you think they've put him through then?"
"Old school brute force mental brainwash. Add some chemicals and overdose of virtual suggestion and voilá; we got this 'Zeck the wreck' we met today."
"Please, save me from that kind of antihumour. It only sounds cruel to me."
"Sorry, mister Rosel", Sandatüruk apologized his master and the client he served.
"So, is he totally lost? Is there any way to undo the mental barriers and bring him back?" voice, now known belonging to someone called Rosel, asked.
"To some extent maybe. But you know there are more things we have to take in consideration if we are going to try undoing the brainwash."
"That is too true", Rosel agreed and continued: "Should we still try it?"
"Well, he is your old friend, sir. What would you answer to your question?"
"Definitely."
"Ok. We'll need some specialists. Some of them we can find here in Bazaar, some of them we need to summon from couple of systems. And we need the man himself back of course, which might be the hardest part at the moment. I think he's after Kielo again. Any news about her?"
"Yes. Our sneaky insider in FICE told they have taken her to FICE head quarters in carrier class ship Boedica in outer rims of Sol system. Due to the report I just received she should be alright. Our informer believes they really took her there for her own safety, not for follow-up interrogations. She is said to have very bad mental symptoms and therefore been taken into custody."
"That could be true. She's propably brainwashed too and maybe her mental programming has started to collapse", Sandatüruk assumed.
"I have a bad feeling about her. She was the unluckier one when the FICE decided to awake them. I feel so sorry for both of them, Zeck and her. And for myself too."

There was a brief moment of uneasy silence.

"Oh, by the way; Zeck's reaction to the gun was different from the one to the information about his parents", Sandatüruk finally continued.
"Really?"
"Yes. Even though he denied being the gun's owner it wasn't a same sort of deflecting reaction. That gives us at least some hope of auto-revival of his mind and memory."
"Are you certain this auto-revival can possibly work, Osman?"
"Yes. Sights like his old gun can trigger an automatic chain reaction that dispells the brainwash in a natural or should I say organic way. It doesn't have to be a sight. It can be a voice, a place, the sensation of the gun grip perfectly fitting his palm - anything that stimulates his mind in a right way and provokes his old memories to flood over."
"For a one lost in shadows a flame to follow must be given."
"What's that, mister Rosel?"
"An old saying."
"Too bad my conversation with Arrow ended before I got an opportunity to lead it to the poetic steam message we delivered to him. We know by Led's report that Zeck had received it. The message on it's own could have worked as the trigger needed, or as the flame in the darkness if you like, but it seems like a mere flicker of flame isn't enough in his case."
"What about a torch then? A campfire? A bonfire?"
"What are you suggesting, sir?" Sandatüruk asked from his master.
"We'll continue supporting his efforts via Yela, Led and doc Arvidson."
"Right. And?"
"We must get him to Earth, to see how it is."
"That wouldn't be a torch or a bonfire. That would be a supernova."
"The FICE used brute force, so should we."
"If you say so, mister Rosel. But shouldn't we ask, or at least inform the ones involved about what we are planning."
"Yes. That's true. We can't decide about this without hearing their opinion. Arrange a meeting in V2 Starbase with them and fly there...Wait...Something's coming through Heimdal...It's from the hangar bay docking control. Some FICE operatives are requesting a docking permission."
"Troops? Or agents?"
"Just two agents. Papillon and Darcy."
"Oh, the Scarface and the Carrot, hah. They are the ones who were after Zeck."
"And the ones who gained the whole FICE a temporal ban to V2 Starbase", Rosel said with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"And restricted authority in the whole system."
"They are not the worst scum of the FICE though."
"Are they welcome?" Sandatüruk asked.
"Yes. Go meet them. No doubt the aroma of coffee led them here, but I believe Zeck got far enough before these two arrived. Say nothing about Zeck to them and try to get as much as possible out of them."
"Ok. I'll handle them and then I'll arrange that other meeting in V2 Starbase."

 

[Zeck]

Part 8.4, The shadow and the flame.

"I mean, why?" Led Arrow asked. "Why should we do that? He IS like a brother to me. And didn't mister Sandatüruk already tell there are unpredictable risks? We might lose even the Zeck we now have."
"It's so easy for you to say that, cousin!" Yela argumented from the other side of the table the debate took place at. "You don't have to live two lives here among the people and businesses! Being bullied by the FICE every now and then! Playing by their rules and yet double agenting for mister Sandatüruk's mysterious client! I have my own family here too! I'm sick and tired delivering quirky steam bombs and invisible finger drawn messages to his ship behind his back and everything!"
"Oh, that steam idea was so stupid", Led commented in the background of Yela.
"They were firing at him, someone could have got hurt or killed! I just can't take it anymore!" Yela cried with anger.
"I don't understand why the FICE wanted you to use your maiden name in the first place, and pretend you're not married and all that, Yela", said Lucas Arvidson, the doctor from V2 Starbase hospital.
"I guess it just fits better their script for Zeck's conditioning", said Osman Sandatüruk who had flown from Bazaar of Stars to V2 Starbase and gathered these people to a secret meeting there.
"At least they pay for us and support iCTg", said Led trying to justify his opinion in this discussion.
"Oh shut up! Why don't you go back to your Gemini hideout to play with your toys! Maybe I should inform the direct location of your workshop to the FICE. They could start visiting you too. See how long you can stand that pressure!"
"May I...?" Arvidson asked to interrupt Yela's rant. "The FICE doesn't actually pay that much for any of us so it's not about their funding aid for iCTg or our hospital."
"It's about their authority, maybe the fear they are able to project, their overall public influence", Sandatüruk said. "They excel in persuasion so no wonder it sounded good for all of you to play by their rules."
"And during these times of war any sort of funding support, minor or major, seemed welcome. But I bet the ghost of Hippocrates will haunt me for my corruptive actions", doctor Arvidson said.
"Here's a chance to clean your karma for Hippocrates", Sandatüruk said with a hint of hilarity in his voice.
"Hippocrates, hah! Hypocrites; you're all such hypocrites. All of you caring about nothing but yourselves: doc for his medical reputation and some ancient oath; you, Led, for your easy going brotherly hi-five moments with Zeck and retaining the calmness in your remote tinkering shop!; and you, sir - ", Yela said but was interrupted by Led.
"Enough! Do you think your own motives are any less selfish?", he asked.
"No. But I want to help him. I can't watch him like that, in this theatre piece we call his life. You three only think about what he is to you, what benefits or disadvantages his condition or a change in it brings to you. Not a single thought for him", Yela said.
"We all have been supportive to him, you can't deny that", Arvidson said.
"By lying! How long the lies can support anyone!?" Yela asked.
"The truth can be disastrous for him", Arvidson replied.
"Yeah, didn't Kielo already break down? I don't want anything that bad for Zeck, or anybody", Led said.
"It's not about good or bad. None of us can say what is good or bad for him. We can only tell him the truth", Yela said and gave the others something to think for a moment of silence.

"Ok people, my time is running out and I have to leave soon", Sandatüruk said and continued: "I'm glad you all were present here and you all have presented your opinions. This is not any kind of vote for 'yes' or 'no' for our forthcoming actions, but I would like to hear each one's final opinion. Yela?"
"We must tell him the truth no matter what it causes to him or us, no matter how the FICE might response to it."
"Doctor?", Sandatüruk asked.
"I guess Yela is right. What we've been doing is unethical. But if this decision will bring the hospital, the starbase or me and my family to any kind of danger, I insist your client to intervene", Arvidson demanded.
"That I can promise. And we all know the FICE's status varies from outlaws to supremacy depending on the star system. Currently they can't even dock here", Sandatüruk calmed.
"Not by permission. By force, who knows?" Arvidson said.
"No need to worry about them, doc. Trust me", said Sandatüruk, who had earlier that day discussed with two of the FICE representatives that had arrived to Bazaar of Stars just after Zeck Arrow had slipped away from there. He continued: "Led, what is your final word?"
"I wish...that after all what is about to happen, if Zeck survives and all that, I wish I can look in to his eyes without feeling embarrassed and without self loathing."
"So it's ok for you?" Sandatüruk asked.
"I can't say it's ok, but there seems to be no other way", Led confirmed.
"But where on earth is Zeck?" Yela asked suddenly.
"Hah, not quite that far yet, I guess - the Earth, I mean - but most likely bashing his way there in major Ivanova's ranks", Sandatüruk said and stepped up for the chair to end the meeting and leave the starbase.

This part concludes the chapter 8. The shadow and the flame.

 

[Delloda]

Great stuff! I think your getting a fan club! ^^ count me in too!

 

[Zeck]

Part 9, An interlude


No matter how succesfully his own senses might have deceived him so far, they couldn't prevent him to realize the Mars he had landed on, after his last visit there unknown time ago, wasn't the same it used to be. Day after day, mission after mission he had strived to reach further into the Sol system's secrets with only minimal possible sleep and vast amounts of black coffee, namely a dark roasted flavour called Dark Matter, as the stimulant keeping him in action.
While sleeping he saw confusing nightmares. There was a repetative nightmare of a huge mantis god or goddes rising from the horizon of blooming Earth. The godly mantis lord or queen wore a pearl neclase like decoration, only the pearls on the trinket were escape pods of human pilots. Another delirious nightmare presented his wife as a pilot contacting Zeck with a distorted signal through the video communicator.
At some point even Ivanova's pilot recruiters told Zeck they wouldn't employ him before he took a good rest. As if he would, for when he was temporarely rejected by rebel forces he went fighting the mantis on his own.

Zeck had only shady memories of how he had ended up to the Moon. He recalled flying to the mine in Mars again and again. It had been like entering Dante's Inferno repeatedly, going deeper circle by circle till that infernal funnel swallowed him straight to Hell, that being the Moon.
On the Moon he was, flying a STAM R-Storm Miekka('Sword'), a ship he didn't even remember buying during his endeavours at Mars.
At some point he was again allowed to join a squad for Ivanova's mission, but only to become aware, in the middle of the mission, that as the rest of the squad had lunged to the surface, he was left behind, loitering on the orbit, and no one even asked, let alone commanded, him to come along.
"What am I doing? I can't go on like this", he thought. Then he passed out because of exhaustion.

A loud knocking woke him up. The first thing he noticed was the brightness that couldn't be the luminance at the Moon's orbit. His ship had to be somewhere inside, the brightness being artificial lighting of a hangar area. The second thing he noticed was that waking up to an alarming knocking had autonomicly led his hand to scrabble something that wasn't there from a nonexistent holster belted on his side. He soon remembered the gun practise in Bazaar of Stars and thought this reaction was a reminescence of the shooting session.
"Heeey! Open up or we have to break in!" shouted the rebel base personnel and continued knocking Miekka's dome.Zeck's ship had been collected by a helpfull garbage collector after it had drifted over 24 hours on the Moon's orbit bumbing to other ships and scratching their paintworks, as well as it's own, without the other pilots getting any contact to Zeck and receiving any kind of response from him.
All his thoughts about 'I can't go on like this' vanished immediately as he woke up. He hardly even said thanks to the people who had taken care of him, as he was already on his way back to the fray on Moon's surface.

6 hours later Zeck was banging his ship's control board with both fists. Miekka was already stunned by a mantis custodian commander and there were two other commanders arriving both ready to unleash their shock on Zeck's ship. Not that they would even need to use their stuns at all; there were a couple dozen other mantis units, local to central area of Moon's operational map, around Zeck feasting on Miekka. A stun of custodian commander was like a blessing for those hungry vermins, there was no escaping for Zeck this time. The first phase of emergency triggered escape pod capsulation of ship's interior was already finished and a couple of seconds later the supporting stuctures gave in. The final phases of escape pod forming took place in a fragment of time saving Zeck's life once again.

Weeks later it was time for the mental Big Bang. Zeck landed on Earth for the first time and realized it was worse than any nightmare he had seen in his restless naps. He couldn't neglect the visible truth anymore. All the other pilots and people had repeatedly told him his understanding of Earth's conditions was outdated years, decades or centuries ago, and now that he was forced to confront it personally he didn't know what to think, what to do. Something in his mind broke apart, but it was not a painful sensation. He looked at his hands and they looked now more real than before. His ship interior felt more real too. There was a new flow in his mind. Just a moment ago he thought the planet he was on had to be some kind of fake Earth, but now the vision outside the ship became more real looking than anything had been for a long time. Yet there were still so many unclear thoughts and questions to be answered in his mind. In the solitude of his cockpit he began to feel himself very helpless and was quickly regressed to a state of a weeping infant, sinking deeper and deeper to his pilot seat. "What happened to our beatiful home planet?" he was thinking tears running down his cheek, covered by an inexpressive pilot helmet. "Why can't I locate the Arrow estate from where it is supposed to be situated? The man in Bazaar of Stars, Osman Sandatüruk, was peculiarly curious about my attitude about the Earth. He must know something."

 

[Zeck]

Part 10, Visualizing the story - making of Zeck Arrow 2

Since I found out there really is an official history timeline for PG I'm at the same time relieved and having some trouble with what I've planned to have happening in my own story. There are some big decisions I have to take time to work with and because I'm therefore slipping from my weekly deadline with the story, I'm publishing another making of. This time it's mostly about making the pixel pictures for the story parts .


The part 4 is based on real game events that some other pilots may remember. I roleplayed Zeck was searching for his dog and at least some pilot responsed to continuous inquiries on chat about the dog Grinder's whereabouts: "I don't know but I'd like to shoot Grinder". I'm not sure if he meant Zeck's dog or the pilot with same name.

As some one commented between part 4 and 5 he had looked to the story but not read the whole of it, I thought it might be better to publish longer story parts in smaller pieces, especially because at that time I really got the writing drive on and a long story arc started to develop in my mind. I decided to publish little something weekly (at weekend, mostly at sundays) even though I had more material ready. That turned out to be a good way. It also gives me time to make the parts waiting to be published better and all new ideas to arise to be added there.


Pixel by pixel

I wanted to add a pixel picture to every single post, but that was too much to work with.

For the picture in part 5.1 I took a blurry screenshot of the Fusion Storm in the game and drew pixels on it. For the Rocketeer blown in the picture I seek visual advice from Mantis unit pictures at Hitchhiker's guide to pirate galaxy.

In the picture for the part 6.1 I wanted to portray a piece of every day life environment, in contrast to adventurous part of Pirate Galaxy. This is the first time that Zeck himself is portrayed and first I thought I'd visualise him only as a silouette, actually I was meant to draw the whole flat without room light, only as a dark room that was partially lighted by the light coming from the corridor outside the open door. Trivia; the painting or poster is a copy of a famous finnish painting Taistelevat metsot (The fighting capercaillies) by Ferdinand von Wright.

I was dead tired when I got the picture in the part 6.3 finally ready to be published, already late from the deadline and without some elements I had planned to be in it. But the most important ones are there. Some elements I cut off the final were two kids looking "hey, what's happening there!?" and the electronic commercial screen on the hangar wall, such like they had in the movie Blade Runner. The graffit "Lag you!" was supposed to be a stupid metalevel inside joke referring to game lag that hits players in PG.
I knew I wanted to make an action picture of the chase that took place in the V2 starbase. One of the first ideas was to place a propaganda poster on the corridor wall, that was the first piece I made. From a scetch on a paper I moved to pixels. The first ready version of the poster felt too big so I reorganized it's elements to a tighter variation.
Around the latter version of poster I drew the basic outlines for the scene and started to work with the details. For the characters I tend to draw a fuzzy free hand wire model of which I start to carve the final shape pixel by pixel.
On the picture below I temporarily copy-pasted the Zeck from an earlier picture to directly remind me of his looks and also to pick the correct colour hues from the earlier one to the one under construction.
First step of designing the ship model ICTC-A, described in more details in the part 7, was when I designed the pixel art logo for iCTg. Actually it wasn't meant to be any step for further design work, but on a boring lecture I started to wonder what kind of ship the tiny pixel heap would be. Then I drew a tily outline frame on a lecture paper, according the pixel model. The next step was designing a scetch of the actual ship that fit inside the outlined frame. From there I took it back to pixel art with Paint. First I made a pixel grid to make it easy to position the ship's outlines as they were on the squares on the paper. The basic pixel version on the grid is shown on the part 7 of this thread. The top view of the ship was made based on the measures of the side view, and the frontal view based on the top view. Though the pixel art of ICTC-A were used in part 7 they were ready long time before just waiting for a suitable moment to be published. I hope I'm able to do an isometric projection view of the ship some day.

I'm currently working with another pixel picture that will be published in the story and I think it's going to be bigger than the one in part 6.3.

 

[Zeck]

Part 11.1, The moment of truth

There was more to it than just an ageless merchant alley in the Bazaar of the Stars. Zeck had now been there for half an hour waiting for Osman Sandatüruk's consultation. During that time he had taken a deeper glance to the market area and seen a little bit further it. There were temple like places on the long walls behind the merchant booths. Some of them were almost empty spaces with only a small shrine. Some had holy looking old men sitting on the floor and chanting, they payed no attention to Zeck taking a look to the room through the open doorway. There was a parade of dozen of pilgrims on the street. "Am I one of them too?" Zeck thought. "Just a pilgrim searching for the ultimate truth about everything and nothing, or redemption for my ill deeds?"

Five minutes later he had entered a small tent like cabin. The sign outside said 'Uruna Luna, Diviner'.
"You don't have to believe in anything unnatural to attend my consultation. I will read your life from the cards with a technique my aunt has taught for me."
"Ok."
"I thank my mentor for this great gift", the woman said with closed eyes before starting the divination. "This card represents you", she said placing the Jack of Hearts on the table. "Now, shuffle your life", the woman said passing the rest of the deck of worn carton cards to Zeck. She hadn't even asked his name and most likely that kind of information wasn't of any importance for her expertise.
Couple cards slipped out from the deck as Zeck was shuffling too hastily.
"I'm such a clumsy..." he muttered and was about to mix the slipped cards back to deck.
"No! There is a purpose for your haste, there is a purpose for those cards to slip from your hands."
"They are special?"
"We'll see about that", woman said and placed the extracted cards aside with their back sides up. Zeck continued shuffling the remaning deck more carefully.
"When you're ready spread the cards upside down on the table, then choose eleven cards and give them to me one at the time."
Zeck spread the cards to a long overlapping line and picked the asked amount of cards. The diviner placed the first eight of them around the Jack of Hearts in a symmetric circular formation face side up. The last three she held in her hand for a moment before laying them on the table face up. Then she turned open the special cards that had slipped from Zeck's nervous hands and placed them next to three cards she had layed on the table from her hands.
"This is dangerous!" the woman said.
"You see danger?"
"No, I can't see it, that's why this divination itself might be dangerous. I don't see everything I should see. That might lead me to read things wrong, which will be dangerous for not only you but me too, and it will drag an evil shadow on my mentors teachings and her memorial. I won't take any price for this consultation." The unspoken truth was she wasn't sure if she could do the divination at all because of the possible consequenses.
"You are surrounded by lies", she started. "There is a woman, dear to you." She pointed at the Queen of Spades, one of the special cards escaped from the shuffling. "Even she is surrounded by secrets, not necessarily lies, but there is something about her you don't know." First Zeck was thinking Kielo, his wife, but then his thoughts turned towards his sister who might have had something to do with the steam message emerging to his ship's dome.
"There is a man of influence", the diviner said, again pointing at one of the extra cards, the King of Diamonds. "You're urging to meet him. He wants to meet you too. He is big in some way, it might be physical appearance, social or economical influence, spiritual too; for a religious person this constellation of cards might refer to God, but for you I sense something else. This man of influence, he too hides something."
The diviner's gaze wandered from card to card for a while. Then she came back to the King of Diamonds representing a man of influence, who in Zeck's own interpretation had to be Osman Sandatüruk.
"He is connected to another man", the woman said and pointed at the Jack of Diamonds and King of Clubs.
"Wait a minute, how can you point at two cards and talk about one man?"
"That's what I'm wondering myself too. I don't understand why this table of cards claims this, but this other man seems to be of your age and at the same time of very old age, almost too old as if he's passed away already. It also seems like you know him very well, but at the same time you don't. He might be someone you know from the past but you have since forgotten."
Then the diviner looked at the different cards again for a while.
"There is a group of people related to this card." This time she pointed at the Joker.
"Are they the people you've just mentioned?"
"No. How ever the cards I've pointed so far, the defined people, have all something to do with the Joker too. This undefined group of people under the influence of the Joker are also close to you, might be relatives, family or such, and...There's another instance that connects to you via the Joker. They are causing you troubles."
Zeck couldn't think about anything else but the agents.
"What does the Joker mean?"
"I can't compose a clear vision on that in this context. The Joker is a manifestation of chaos, or a product of chaos, a one who can control the chaos or make order out of chaos and use it for his benefit, a one who get's his lifeforce from chaos. Surrounded by these cards here it could represent a plot, a plan, a joke of course. It might be an amplifier for the lies that this table shows already without the Joker. It can be a riddle or rhyme. It can also be this divination itself."
"Could it be a secret message?"
"Yes. That's a very potential choice. Let's see what else the cards have to say." She started to pick cards from the diagram formation and from the set of rest of the cards on the table, ordered them in pairs or groups of cards.
"You are very worried about someone, but that person will do just fine. The instance who causes you the trouble doesn't necessarily want to hurt you, at least not directly. How ever, you will be hurt but it'll be because of your own will. That is all that the cards can tell us this time."
"Thank you, this has been very interesting session."
"I wish you courage on your path."

 

[Zeck]

Part 11.2, The moment of truth

"So, we meet again, mister Arrow! What brought you back to Bazaar of the Stars? Businesses? Multicultural atmosphere? Or perhaps the target shooting?"
"None of those. I need your help. I mean, I need help and I couldn't think of anyone else to turn to at the moment."
"What about those rebels?"
"It's not that kind of help I'm seeking."
"So it's not about rescuing your wife?"
There was a moment of silence as Zeck eyed the man before him.
"You really seem to know much about my situation. Are you one of them? Is the client you're working for the agency who has captived her? If that's the case...I don't care any more, just take me to their HQ and do what ever you want."
"Don't worry, mister Arrow. You're quite safe now that you've arrived here."
"Safe, yeah. That reminds me, how do you defend yourselves? I haven't seen much artillery or other weaponry. Or fighters. Not to mention any actual security personnel inside your marvellous ship."
"If you really like to hear I can explain you that and many other things, mister Arrow", Sandatüruk said.
"Well that's good. That's why I'm here. There's like a hollow area in my mind and from that hollow spawns unanswered questions one after another."
Zeck's speech was about to continue, but Sandatüruk interruptd it.
"It's good you arrived here with your troubled mind. I believe this is the very place where you can find answers to your questions."
"Hah, I know. I already visited the diviner woman at the other end of the bazaar", Zeck said.
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"Many people are afraid of her, Uruna, because she really can read their lives from the cards. You don't seem to be afraid at all."
"She wished me courage as we departed. Maybe her wish spell works on me making me unafraid."
"I hope you are not just joking on her talent. Her gift should be payed respect."
"No doubt her skill was impressive. But I need more clear reading of my life and answers to my questions, from you."
"Fine. But before you start asking your questions we need to make a deal. Follow me please."
Sandatüruk took Zeck to an apartment like cabinet two stores above the famous market street. On the way there he answered Zeck's question about the defence arrangement of the Bazaar of the Stars.
"We have some weaponry of our own for defence purposes, even though we don't keep the gun barrels pointed out. Our greatest defence has always been diplomacy."
"The art of compromise", Zeck conformed.
"Yes and no. That kind of sentence is easily missunderstood. People tend to see only the surface of things and hear the sound of words, not their whole meaning. The art of compromise is not to seek, find or end up to a consensus at what ever cost. It's more about understanding when it is time for consensus and when it is not. It's about knowing the ways to find more benefit than disadvantages when a compromise is settled. It's about knowing the ways to stay strong even if it might look like you need to do substancial consigment. It is more about how not to feed grudge on the counterparts that happen to be the ones making the most consigments in a compromise when you seem to be the top dog."
"And that's the base of your defence?"
"Not only defence. We have weapons greater than any physical weapon can be at our disposal. They are such that they can easily be turned to be offensive. You see, the merchant alley and the rusty outfit of this ship are only a surface to the real wonders inside it."
"The people tend to see only at the surface of things...That's what you said, right?"
"Indeed. At the market street you can purchase almost anything you can afford, but our most precious merchandise is all immaterial and something that we don't necessarily need even to sell to keep it productive."
"What's that, ancient wisdom?"
"Information."

From the open glassless windows one could look down to the bazaar while discussing and enjoying refreshments or hot drinks.
"Please take a seat", Sandatüruk said.
A young woman entered the room from the open doorway. She was carrying an old coffee set on a metal tray.
"This is my daughter Saphire", Sandatüruk introduced.
"Zeck Arrow, an associate of your father", Zeck introduced himself. "Nice to meet you Saphire."
Saphire only nodded courteously, served coffee for the men and left the room.
"What roast is this?" Zeck asked sniffing an unknown aroma that was spreading around the room air.
"The roast is actually one of the samples you left here the previous time.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Smells more like an oriental flavour."
"The roast is yours. The recipe how ever is a family speciality. It is usually cooked by my wife Falma, but Saphire is learning how to make it. Let's find out how she has succeeded."
"To be honest, I don't favour spiced flavours", Zeck said, brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.
"We appreciate honesty in deeds and words", Sandatüruk responsed to Zeck's opinion.
"I'm about to change my opinion on spiced flavours", was the first thing Zeck was able to say as the incredibly rich, yet gentle, flavour had conquered his taste.
"Mister Sandatüruk, I am very interested in discussing about this flavour's potetial later, but what was the deal you wanted us to make?" Zeck asked.
"It's very simple. You must promise not to leave Bazaar of the Stars as you did the last time. We will tell you everything you want to know and propably you'll get more information you can even expect at the moment. Some of it might be disturbing in such a manner we can't risk you to leave from here at your own decision. Can you promise us that, mister Arrow?"
Zeck gave the suggestion a couple of eye blinks thought and then answered.
"Yes. I promise you not to leave without your permission. But I ask you not to hold me here for too long or for nothing."
"Fine. Excuse me, I'll leave you now for a moment. When I'm back, you'll get the first piece of information. We'll meet in half an hour", Sandatüruk said.
"Here?"
"Yes. Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention: this set of rooms will be your home while you reside on our ship. Here are the keys."
As Sandatüruk handed the keys towards Zeck he autonomously flinched backwards almost falling from his seat. Maybe Zeck was still afraid that the big man was a part of the black clad agency's machinery, Sandatüruk thought.
"Relax, mister Arrow. The FICE occasionally visits us. Yes, it happens every now and then, but our diplomacy works on them like everyone else."
"The FICE?"
He doesn't even understand such a trivial thing that who the agents actually are, Sandatüruk wondered.
"The agents that are after you", Sandatüruk clarified.
"Oh, of course. Yeah, the FICE. Federal Investigation of Commercial Enterprises, right?" Zeck said and Sandatüruk could read from the man's face that even though he recalled the organisation's full name he was unsure why such an organisation was after him and his wife, even if he was operating in commercial sector.
"We'll get back to FICE too when I'm back, mister Arrow", Sandatüruk said and walked out of the room.

 

[stimo]

Nice i keep loving to read this tnx mate when i need to fly long times i read your story keep it going ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

 

[Zeck]

Part 11.3, The moment of truth

"We'll start with what happened and what didn't happen in the ambush of Convoy 12 and following that in Deb-C5", Osman Sandatüruk declared. "What I have here are two set of dossiers containing all the reported and ensured material about the ambush. The information in these two folders have some remarkable differences as you shall see."
Zeck leaned forward to see better the material Sandatüruk had placed on the table.
"This one is the official report, the official truth that you can find in all public databases. In the page number 28 is a listing of losses and casualties et cetera, take a look on it. About iCTc fleet it says Survivors: 3. The official dossier has 5 pages concerning the three survivors mentioned, that is you, your wife and your oldest brother Domin."
"Mister Sandatüruk, I believe I have seen this material before", Zeck said.
"Ok. So you are familiar with the official truth as reported in this first folder. The official truth how ever usually isn't a quite honest or unaltered view about what really happened. This second folder contains the original documentation based on real events and information, the raw report material before it was edited to see the daylight. As you can see the 5 pages about you three doesn't exist at all. And take a look at the Survivors section on the list on the page 28."
Zeck eyed the given page.
"It says zero? What? You mean I'm actually dead?" Zeck said.
"No. You three never were in Convoy 12."
"I don't get it. Are saying it was some sort of illusion?"
"The convoy and it's destruction are all real, but your involvement there is added afterwords."
"By who? What for?"
"The FICE, obviously. Their interests exceed the investigations of the gray and black areas of commercial enterprises these days."
Zeck remembered doctor Arvidson sharing his information about the mantis in the Deb-C5 taking the embryo from Kielo. But now Osman Sandatüruk was trying to convince Zeck that such events might not have happened in the first place.
"What kind might the quality of FICE's interest in me be then?" Zeck asked.
"Very special, I would say. The next dive we'll take in this topic will be a deep one. I suggest you to drink this medicine before we continue", Sandatüruk said and handed Zeck a vial with translucent liquid in it.
"What is it?"
"Take it, you'll need it. It relaxes you and will inhibite possible shock reactions. I also want to attach some monitoring devices to you, on your permission."
"I'm not sure if this is getting just interesting or only weird, but if you consider it necessary I'll follow your guidance", Zeck answered.
He drank the tasteless potion and Sandatüruk began to attach wired patches to his skin.
"In case we need to deliver more relaxants to your system I need to insert this cannula to the back of your hand, ok?"
"Why can't you ask me to sip another vial if an extra dose is needed?"
"We can do that now, but in a case of emergency we need to secure we can give it to you, ok?"
"Ok."
"Then, here we go. After the real events with Convoy 12 you and your wife were brainwashed, kind of reprogrammed to believe you were involved there. The brainwash was done by the FICE specialists. At your current state you are propably not aware about the fact that the history of the FICE is closely connected, if not somewhat entangled, with the history of iCT company and your family."
The relaxant began to work, Zeck felt calm yet not sleepy.
"During the time your father Darius Arrow passed the company to you and your siblings, he gathered a council of remarkable traders and representatives of many different law enforcement and military instances. They wanted to create an organisation to oversee, moderate and control the laws according the interstellar trading and to investigate the criminal activities breaching those laws around the galaxy. Centuries ago, when human kind started to spread to other star systems a same kind of organisation was founded, but it has already ceased to exist. It was called Outer Firmament Federal Investigations of Commercial Enterprises, also known as the OFFICE. The new organisation was named after it's ceased predecessor, but the name was afterwards shortened to FICE."
"Could it be...?" Zeck said and delved his pockets.
"What is it?" Sandatüruk asked glancing the neuro-bio surveillance monitor readings.
"I got this weird message from an anonymous sender", Zeck said and unfolded a piece of paper. "I thought it was just a typo but now I see it might be there on purpose. Look, it's not SECRETS MADE OFF ICE with an extra F in the word OF, but SECRETS MADE OFFICE!"
"That riddle, it was composed and sent by my master."
"Why?"
"It was to probe whether your mind was sensitive enough to solve the riddle and thereby to trigger a chain reaction to wipe out your brainwash."
"Why such a cryptic message?"
"My master has, uh...His ways look sometimes strange."
"Will I get to meet his person some day?"
"My master? Perhaps, hopefully, but to make your way to him we must proceed with this session."
"Ok. So, you said my father was actually one of the founders of the FICE?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any information about my parents's current whereabouts? I really thought I'd find them in their estate on Earth but I couldn't even locate the whole estate there. Actually the whole Globe was only a distorted vision of what I was expecting."
"I told you this already on your first visit, repeatedly, but your mind dodged the answer. They are deceased."
"Dead?" The monitors showed a peak in Zeck's pulse and burst in adrenaline level. "Somehow I...knew it."
"I'm sorry. And next, we are getting to the heavier stuff", Sandatüruk prefaced.

Continues straight from here next week.

 

[Zeck]

Part 11.4, The moment of truth

"There never was a Arrow Estate on Earth", Sandatüruk continued.
"But that's where I grew up!?"
"No you didn't. Your family stems from martian refugees that fled the 300 year war on Earth. Some of the refugees formed a so called Nation Fleet Federation, NFF, a huge fleet consisting of smaller fleets that represented different Earth nations that still existed on the hour of their departure to exodus. You were born and raised in the finnish fleet's flag ship Kanteletar. All your memories of living on Earth have to originate from virtual education packages. The FICE were able to rebuild your memory on such material and your own mind actually did all the hard work for them."
"But at least the iCT company and the coffee plantations...?"
"They too situated in NFF ships. They had couple agri-environment ships to produce food."
"If all you are saying is true, where is this NFF now?"
"It was broken apart by Imperial strike forces in the beginning of the millenium. Your family, parents and siblings were killed, the iCTc ship assembly factory and coffee plantations were destroyed."
"Uh, how did I survive then?"
"You were on a mission."
"What about Yela and Led, aren't they my siblings too and yet they are alive even you told all my siblings died? And what about Kielo?"
"Yela and Led weren't there. Kielo was with you."
"What? She was with me on a mission?"
"We'll get back to that later."
"But hey..." Zeck said and his forehead wrinkled. The brain activity monitor showed rised activity in long term memory sector.
"What is it, mister Arrow? You feeling all right? You remembered something, didn't you?"
"I suddenly remembered the NFF. But if I remember my history lessons correctly...When did you say the fleet was attacked by the Empire? In the beginning of the millenium? You have to admit it makes absolutely no chronological sense that I would have been on a mission at that era or even existed then."
"It will make sense as we proceed. We have progressed well and your status seems fine, but I would now add a small dose of relaxant to your circulation, ok?"
"Yeah, ok."
"There. So, iCT company was founded in NFF. It's control was passed to you, your brothers Domin and Secal and your sister Seren. The oldest of..."
"You forgot to mention Yela, Led and Dauna", Zeck interrupted.
"Not exactly forgot, but we'll get back to that too later. The oldest of you, Domin, was the head of the company. At those times you graduated from the NFF academy and became the head of the iCTc security force. At that position you secured deliveries but also trained and instructed new pilots and board security staff in the iCTc flag ship."
"I really find it very hard to follow and relate to all this. It all sounds familiar, but the time aspect is illogical. Maybe it's because of this medicine?"
"No, the medicine doesn't do it. This all sounds illogical till we get to a certain point. Patience. Now, let's continue. At some point you began to consult security arrangements outside the iCTc too and finally were recruited to a task team working under the command of the FICE."
"I worked for them?"
"Yes. It was one of their secret missions you were on when the NFF was attacked. On that mission you were declared Missing In Action and later Killed In Action only to be found by the FICE scout patrol almost 80 years later, in a drifting ship hulk, put into cryostasis."
The monitors went wild immediately. Zeck started to shake, his body temperature lowered but he was swimming in swet. His breathing became unstable and his limbs started to twist and convulse.
"Calm down, Zeck! Listen to me!" Sandatüruk shouted in alert. Zeck's vision blurred.
"Help me..." he wailed.
"I'm here, you're going to be just fine", Sandatüruk asserted.
"Osman, we need to put him to sleep", a voice from speakers said.
"I'm working on it, sir!" Sandatüruk said inserting an anesthetic syringe to the cannule readied in Zeck's hand.
"I know that voice..." Zeck said or at least he thought he was saying it. Then he heard the voice speaking straight to him, it was like the voice came from closer now.
"This is Petal calling Nettle. Take it easy now, buddy."
The words had a calming effect. Zeck was sure he knew this Petal but he couldn't recall any face or from where this person could have been familiar to him. Just before Zeck was put to sleep by the injected dose, he remembered the diviner woman Uruna's reading about an old acquaintance that was represented by both Jack of Diamonds and King of Clubs.

 

[Zeck]

Part 11.5, The moment of truth

"Why am I in a wheelchair?" Zeck asked when he slowly came back to his senses.
"There's a strong dose of medicine in your circulation that makes your limbic system weak and somewhat nonresponsive. Meaning you couldn't stand on your feet at the moment", the nurse said. "How are you feeling, mister Arrow?" she then asked.
He felt like a beaten animal but he answered: "Fuzzy. Thirsty."
"Have some water then", the nurse said and poured iced water to a glass. "You got some visitors outside the door", the nurse said and Zeck noticed he was in the set of rooms that mister Sandatüruk had addressed as Zeck's residence. "Do you think you are strong enough to meet them?" the nurse asked.
"I'm feeling cold, nurse. Can you give me a planket or something."
"Of course. There, feeling cozy now?"
"Yes, better."
"What about those visitors?"
"They can enter", Zeck said.
"I'll send them in. I'll be waiting outside should you need me, but I believe you'll be just fine, there's a doctor among your visitors."
The visitors were doctor Arvidson, Yela and Led. They all carried a look of guilty in their eyes. Led was the first one trying to break the uneasy silence.
"So, you've heard the big news..." he said rubbing his neck.
The atmosphere turned only more uneasy.
"I understand..." Zeck started and continued, "...That what you did, what you were forced to do...You didn't have much choice."
"I thought this encounter would be the lowest point of my career and life, but now that we can speak without lies it begins to feel like a triumph", doctor Arvidson said.
Yela had so much she wanted to say, but she was in the middle of emotional storm and could only sob.
"I know this might sound stupid and inappropriate, but can we still call each other brothers, Zeck?" Led asked.
"Why couldn't we?" Zeck wondered.
"Uh..." Led fell silent.
"They didn't get to those details in their session", Arvidson supposed.
"We are not your little sister and brother, Zeck", Yela said. "But we are your relatives though. We two are cousins, Led and me, and direct descendants of your deceased brother Domin."
"Deceased? He too now? When did that happen? His status was stable last time I visited the hospital", Zeck said.
"That body in our hospitals ward is not your brother. It's 1-Domin, a cloned copy, no personality included and never ment to be 'waken'. It's nothing but a chunk of meat and bones, a decoy to distract you to a false fate", Arvidson said.
"A clone copy? Isn't that illegal?" Zeck asked.
"The rotten part of FICE uses the same questionable ways they were originally created to prevent to be used. All this time they have payed donations for our hospital so that we would keep a bed reserved for that false coma patient. I'm ashamed of this unethical scheme I've accepted to be part of", Arvidson said.
"No need for that anymore, doc. Please, cremate the clone copy, that bed is needed for real patients", Zeck reasoned. "But how did this all happen? How did you all get messed with all this?"
"Led and I were contacted by the FICE a couple of years ago. They told us that an old relative of ours was found from an autopiloted ship. They told you were in artificial sleep, hibernating in cryostasis and taken to their custody", Yela said.
"Yeah, you know their salvage teams tend to call such hulks - the hulks that carry hibernators, I mean -" Led started enthusiasticly and continued: "- they tend to call them and the sleepers in cryostasis chambers the 'sargonauts'. Get it? Sargonauts, like sarcophagus and...uh..."
"Yes, we all got it", Yela said staring Led with a gaze that could kill. Then she continued: " They said you had been out of this world for so long they were afraid to wake you", Yela said.
"Clones and cryostasis, both methods illegal", Zeck stated.
"Well, it depends. The legality varies through the star systems, times, cultures. There are times these things have been legal and most propably there will be such times again some day. Nevertheless, somewhere someone will always break the laws. Thus clones, hibernators and who knows what more go among us whether they are legal or not", Arvidson lectured.
"They didn't contact us again untill the ambush of Convoy 12. That time they told us they had a plan to wake you and Kielo-", Yela was interrupted.
"She was in cryostasis too?" Zeck asked.
"Yes", doctor Arvidson said. "How else did you think she managed to end up to our days?"
"Sandatüruk said she was with me on some mission", Zeck recalled.
"I believe he want's to tell you more details about that, we should let it for him to do", the doctor said and the others agreed.
"So, where was I", Yela said getting back to her debriefing. "The FICE convinced us it was a good idea to wake you two from cryosleep in the wake of the convoy ambush and make you to believe you were actually survivors of Convoy 12. You know, it is true that iCTc of our days was a part of that convoy and it was destroyed there. So it was a perfect chance for them to bring you back to life, to a new life."
"And they succeeded", Zeck said. "Doctor, about what you told me at the Kalabesh starbase hospital..."
"Yes?"
"About my wife and her being pregnant during the nonexistent events in Deb-C5..."
"Oh, yes. According to the information given by mister Sandatüruk the pregnancy part of your so called story line is in fact based on truth. Though you never crashed on a satellite called Deb-C5, I wouldn't be surprised if Deb-C5 didn't exist at all. But on that FICE organized mission your wife was pregnant", Arvidson said.
"Was she put into cryosleep in that state?" Led asked.
"I'm not given any data concerning such details", Arvidson said.
"I'll ask Sandatüruk about that", Zeck said.
"That might be the best. Maybe we should leave you for now, you need to rest", Arvidson said.
The visitors were already at the door exit as Zeck said: "So. I'm a relic. No wonder I feel so old. But I want to thank all of you. I need you all now more than ever."

 

[Zeck]

Part 12, Academy days

The following took place during or after the time when Zeck Arrow was under suggestionary conditioning by the FICE. As a part of the rehabilitation he was sent to retraining where space pilots, atmospheric pilots or non-pilot personel were trained to surface piloting operations.

Couple dozen of people stood in a three row formation and before them stood an instructor from military. The participants were a mixed bunch of people, not military recruits. They were sent by their companies, superiors or they were there by their own choise. Among them was Zeck Arrow, as an assumed survivor of the ambush of Convoy 12, who's capability to fly a fighter needed to be secured by putting him through this course that would also update his qualification to the demands of surface operations that were more and more common during the mantis war.
"Welcome to academy. Today I see some familiar faces from our earlier courses, but most of you are new to me. Some of you already know how to fly a ship in space. Some of you master the atmospheric flying the Wright brothers indroduced to humankind. Some of you are new to both. On this brief course we will make you confident surface operators. Some of you are here to become fighter pilots, some are here to become support unit pilots, miners and harvesters for example. The hardest part for most of you will be the diving from orbit to surface. You all have done that many times, but not in a ship size of the fighter class. Some of you might have experience of that to though, anyone, raise your hand?"
Only couple of hands raised.
"It is elementary you get used to 'express elevator' as we say, so the OTS, orbit-to-surface, as well as surface-to-orbit practise will be daily. For starters we will divide you to crews of four and for the first week you will be just passengers and our assistant instructors will do the piloting. The first week will be the hardest and it will remove some of you from the course, but don't worry; at these times of war there will be many more jobs for those that don't qualify OTS-training and if you do drop from this course another one will be offered to you as a compensation."
A hand rose from among the participants.
"Yes?" said the instructor officer.
"Is it true what they say about the diapers?" was the question. A muffled laugh travelled through the participant formation.
"Oh yes. On every course from the very first to this and the ones after this, for the first week all the participants are to be wear diapers. 'Why?', you might ask, but you won't ask after the first time you can smell the product of human body functions triggered by the 'express elevator'.
"I'm not going to wear diapers", someone mumbled.
"That's not an option. Believe me, we have years of experience on this. When you or someone in your crew will get the 'express delivery' to your pants you will be happy to wear diapers for two reasons; you don't have to clean the ship interior should you be the one with the 'loose seat', or if someone of your mates has the accident the smell and mess just aren't that bad. Anyone having problems adapting to this scheme may stay here after you're dismissed. The first OTS drop will be in 12:00, that's less than two hours from now so get prepared to what you can't prepare for."

***

"Ok, who left a canister picked? Who's squad was in sector B7?" asked a demanding voice of the field instructor Elson. The course had been running for four weeks now and the ones that had qualified the basic OTS-training were now practising the squad based operations on the surface of an asteroid just called 'training ground'.
"Squad leaders response immediately, who's squad was in B7?"
"Ma'am, this is squad leader Merton, my squad occupied B7."
"Ok Merton, why is there a canister floating in the sector after the mission?"
"Ma'am, I really don't know..."
"The mission instructions declared 'all valuables dropped from target drones must be collected', didn't it Merton?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"The canister didn't seem to be valuable", another voice said.
"Who said that? What was that argument?", instructor Elson asked.
"Ma'am, this is Parkins from Merton's squad speaking. I left the canister there because it seemed out of any significanse to be picked up."
"Oh, how so?"
"I reasoned it was better just to flee the 'enemy' occupied area after blasting the designated targets."
"Right, very good. Every one listen very carefully now, this is an important lesson. Fleeing a hostile location is a very important skill and many times a wise decision. But in this training session it wasn't even close to necessity to flee from the area. So with any excuse it's a fail to pilot Parkins and Merton's team."
"Aw, come on. It was just a canister."
"Don't you interrupt your instructor, Parkins! Only a canister? Yes, this time it was only a canister, but this was only for practise. From now on, in any training session or any real situation, when ever something collectible drops for a blasted target, always collect it. I repeat: always collect it. No matter if it's valuable in it's deepest meaning, collecting it works as practise for you. Consider it this way if you like; you're in a hostile location with enemy that over powers you in fire power or quantity of ships and there is a valuable collectible you must salvage in the middle of the enemy units. Don't you think it was better if you were confident enough to operate in such a hazardous situation. Meaning, you should at least try to collect anything that drops from targets in any environment and situation to get used to operate under pressure when a real treasure drops before your eyes. And an other way to look at this is, when you get shot down and wrapped in your pod, don't you wish your wingman or buddies or the rescue team had practised their skills and were able to resque you in the middle of fray?"

 

[Zeck]

Part 11.6, The moment of truth

I've been extra busy lately so it's been a while since the last post here. After the short flashback in part 12 the story jumps back to part 11.

After the seizurous convulsion incident Zeck Arrow had spent days in the ward and in a ship sector that was called The Orchard. If the legendary Hanging Gardens of Semiramis were ever rebuilt they might have looked like The Orchard. It was a place of growing plants, birds of paradise, flowing waters and a nest of tranquility, and in that sense it was a completely opposite to the lively merchant alley of the Bazaar of the Stars.Osman Sandatüruk came visiting Zeck.
"My master wants to meet you, mister Arrow."
"Finally. I'm ready to go."
"I see you don't fully understand the significance of this opportunity, mister Arrow."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"It is known that only a handfull of people have ever met him face to face."
On their way to Sandatüruk's superior he told Zeck everything he could about the etiquette he was supposed to follow along the audience. The more Sandatüruk spoke the more obvious it came that the speaker himself was most exited about the meeting. Zeck realized he hadn't noticed such a characteristic in Sandatüruk before so this really had to be an extremely rare occasion.
"Ok, here we are", Sandatüruk said.
They had arrived to an empty corridor. There was nothing than plain walls before theyr eyes and around them.
"What next?" Zeck asked.
"We'll wait. Our instructions were just to come here. Oh, and now that I still remember, there is a security routine I have to carry out sooner or later so we can as well conduct it at this point. This is nothing personal, just a normal check for weapons or any other harmfull objects one might carry -"
"Sure, of course."
"Ok, everything seems to be all right", Sandatüruk said after the security procedure. At that same moment an opening emerged on the wall next to them.
"A secret passage?" Zeck wondered.
"So it seems. My clients ways are mysterious and he wants to stay hidden even in his own kingdom."
"He owns the ship?"
"Sort of. You'll see."
They entered a small elevator like booth and the slide door closed right after them. The booth began to move. It felt like it changed direction from vertical to horizontal every now and then and the passangers soon lost their sense of direction and location.
"To stay hidden my master also changes the location of his so called court room from time to time. Even I don't know where his lair lies", Sandatüruk explained.
"How do you keep in touch then?"
"We rely on telecommunication, it's that simple."
"Doesn't it lack some human touch if you deal like that? I don't find it very reasonable. I mean, how often do you meet then?"
"Hah, no very often. As a matter of fact, uh, this is the first time he invited me", Sandatüruk said and lowered his head in a humble manner.
"The first time?! You got to be kidding. You have been here for - how many years?"
"18."
"18 years and you've never met your superior?"
"18 years on this ship, 17 years under my master's service."
"You don't quite convince me now. How could that ever work?"
"Our contract and attachment is based on unquestionable trust."
"How can anyone trust someone he hasn't seen on his own eyes? How can you tell even if he is who he claims to be? Or if he actually exists?"
"Like I said, the contract and our relation is based on unquestionable trust, but not on a blind belief. I know he is who he claims to be."
A dull clang preceding the stopping of the moving booth indicated the arrival of their automated transport. The door slid open again.

 

[Firebrand1]

really good, was waiting for the continuation of the story ^^ ^^ ^^

 

[Zeck]

11.7 The moment of truth

The slide door opened to a gloomy and narrow corridor that led to a dimly lit small hall. It was a size of only a room, but the ceiling was higher than in regular rooms of the Bazaar of the Stars. As Zeck Arrow and Osman Sandatüruk entered the room they were both rendered speechless by the sight they were beholding.
On the other side of the so called court room was a podium elevated in couple of steps. On the right side of the podium, on a lower step, stood a still figure, clad in deep purple velvet like garbs that hung like curtains concealing the character except for the green visored metal helmet on the figure's head. Compared to the whole scene this character was nothing to pay attention to and would have remained unnoticed by Zeck and Sandatüruk unless it hadn't raised a pulse rifle from under the loose garb to guarding position before it's chest.
On the podium stood a futuristic throne and on that sat a pale skinned man, actually the tint of his skin looked light yellow. The back of the throne extended upwards couple of meters and on top of that was a huge beam making the whole structure look like a giant letter T. The man sitting on the throne remained silent and it seemed like his eyes were closed, but one couldn't be sure because of the shadows cast on his eyesockets by the strong light from above. Attached to his shaved head was a plethora of cables that spread upwards with their other ends connecting to the huge beam above. There were strange devices hanging from the beam connecting directly to the man's body. As an entity it looked like the throne was the base of a tree trunk as the cables reaching upwards formed the branches and the beam the canopy of a most bizarre electro-mechanic tree.
It took a good long while before anyone could initiate speech.
"Val?" Zeck said. "Oh my god, it's you. I remember you..."
The man on the throne remained in his statue like mode and so did the purple figure standing on his right.
"Wait, mister Arrow, let me..." Sandatüruk said and tried to make contact to his superior: "Master?" he said with uncertain voice. He was even more nervous than on the way here. After a moment the man on the throne suddenly opened his eyes, two glimmering spots emerged in to the shadows under his forehead.
"Sorry about my recent absence. I was so exited...As I saw you entering the room my emotional responces overreacted and I had to close my eyes to block the visual feed and withdraw behind the closed eyelids to re-congifure few endocrine processes in my human body."
There was no kind of expression of exitement or anything else on the speaker's face or voice.
"Is it really you, Val?" Zeck asked.
"Yes. I'm Val Rosel. But before we proceed to things concerning me or you, Zeck, I want to speak with my underling. Come forth Osman, I want to see you better with my biological eyes."
Sandatüruk had stayed behind Zeck but now he took couple of steps towards Rosel. Sandatüruk trembled a little.
"This is an honor, sir", he said.
"The honor is all mine, Osman", Rosel replied. "I want to thank you for your unmeasurable loyalty to me."
"Tha-tha-thank you, sir", Sandatüruk stuttered.
"It seems I'm not the only one exited about this meeting", Rosel recited. Sandatüruk tried to laugh as a response, but it was only a stifled burst. Rosel continued: "For reasons to be this exited I have at least two major ones the first being seeing my old friend Zeck here before me. The second one I believe we both know, Osman?"
"I, uh...I'm not sure what you're talking about, sir", Sandatüruk said.
"Does my bodyguard make you nervous, Osman?"
"No." The response was so quick it only implied to opposite answer. "Well, uh, I didn't expect anyone else being here, on this meeting", he continued.
"Val", Zeck interrupted, "I can assure you Osman did check me for weapons as you had him instructed."
"I know he did", Rosel said. "But he didn't check himself."