Blood Impulse

Part 33.3 - DEALING WITH THE DEMON

Mississippi Sector, Warhawk 911

The small black reconnaissance ship emerged from subspace in a small flash of rainbow light. Alone amidst the Mississippi Sector's scattering of dark planets, it was quiet. There was no sign of civilization. Like Jazmine and Gaffigan before him, Admiral Gives would have to fly through the drifting planetary bodies. The constant, random drift of the dark planets prevented ships from coming out of FTL at any point within the cluster, as they had no way to know if they would be jumping too deep into a planet's gravity well to escape, or if they would meet a quicker end by emerging directly within a planet's mass. Either way, it was likely to result in certain death.

The Jayhawker had been proud to use that natural environment to his advantage, as it meant no ship could approach Midwest Station using FTL travel. Now, drones had been stationed throughout the sector to watch ships as they approached at relativistic speeds. If any were deemed hostile, the station had plenty of time to rally a defense or simply evacuate.

Loathe as the Admiral was to admit it, the Jayhawker had a right to be proud. Hidden away amongst these dark planets, Midwest Station had escaped the notice of Command and relegated to a mere rumor amongst most of the fleet's personnel. There were people that knew, of course. There were always people that knew, but the Jayhawker and Midwest Station had bought their silence with service. Hub to the black markets and underworld, there was nothing that could not be acquired at Midwest Station. While the Jayhawker refused to deal with Command or the military subsidiaries of the centralized government, various national governments had worked out extremely lucrative deals to get their hands on technology and weapons that had been legally banned. In exchange for that, they happily turned a blind eye to the existence of Midwest Station.

Admiral Gives himself had ignored the station for his own reasons. There had been many corrupt ship commanders in the fleet, loyal to every cause except the one they were sworn to serve. It was easy to be corrupt, far easier than remaining on the straight and narrow, because while commanding a battleship was an envious position, it was also a very lonely one. It required a certain... distance. A distance from the men and women crewing the ship – those that lived and died on orders – but also a distance from the worlds they sailed between. The longer one spent in command, the greater that distance became, and the harder it was to resist the vices and comforts of simpler times, be it drugs, violence, or some other coping mechanism.

Still, the one thing Admiral Gives had never been was corrupt. He had spent his career at odds with Command, yet had never sworn an oath of loyalty directly to Command. He had allowed the supply crews to smuggle goods aboard ship, but he had never taken a bribe. He had obscured the fate of the people Command sent him to kill, but he had never allowed a true criminal to escape justice with one notable exception: Nathan Gadwood – the man that became known as the Jayhawker.

Someone else might have been frustrated by that. Someone else might have held a grudge. But, it wasn't personal. The Jayhawker probably wanted it to be personal, but it was not. As far as the Admiral cared, it was a simple fact. His mistake had allowed Nathan Gadwood the freedom to build an empire in the underworld.

Engaging the Warhawk's sub-light engines, he guided the small ship onto the route that would take him to the station. It had been years since he had made this trip, but considering the conditions of his prior visit, it remained sharp in his memory.

He flew steadily through this dark sector. The colorful buttons and switches of the Warhawk were not much comfort. By design, they gave him enough light to see what he was doing, but failed to brighten the endless darkness that yawned out before him, blotted with the hazy spheres of the dark planets.