Art:Space Pirates/Matt Black's Story
|
For more information on this event, see the forum topic. |
Contents |
Matt Black's Story
by Athalus
The sour taste in my mouth had worked its way down into the pit of my stomach by the time I strummed my last chord. The wild rush of exhilaration I usually rode at the end of concerts was missing, painfully so, and I turned my back on the crowd of adoring fans. I didn't even bother to select half a dozen women to join me backstage, as I usually do.
Something was definitely wrong.
After the gig I sat dejected against a darkened wall, avoiding my room where there were sure to be people. People praising my last performance, people – usually of the feminine variety – who wanted to bed with me, people looking to increase their own fame and feelings of self-worth just by being around me. Was that all my life was now? A shallow swirl of colour, people without faces existing only to define me. What was there to define? I have a voice and ability with the guitar, but so do thousands of other star travelers. I have glamour, but how much of that is artifice, existing only in the minds of my fans? What I really missed was family. Even the lowliest space scrub or deckhand had that, but not me. I had cast myself adrift on the solar winds, both literally and figuratively, when I abandoned my family and denounced our ancestral profession. Murder. Assassination had such deep roots in civilization that it was almost considered respectable, at least by the rich and secure of space's elite, but to me it had always been a painful yoke around my neck, holding me back.
I absently stroked the shuriken inlaid in my guitar, a gift from a father who accepted, if not condoned, my career change. It also had an ancient laserkatana blade embedded in the back – thanks Dad. I'd vowed I would never use it, but now I wasn't so sure. I had spent a childhood fighting my father but now he was gone, struck down by brigand pirates, and that ate at me more than I had thought possible.
It was easy ignoring my father while he was alive, but now his absence was crushing. Codes of honour, familial duty, and of revenge surged within me. I once thought those feelings long dead and buried. I sat in the dark alone and dreamed of taking a life, of bringing vengeance to my father's killer.
The light was so dim that I almost didn't see her approach, her chocolate-dark skin bleeding into the darkness as if she were born of the night itself. Ingrained instincts, those of a ninja-born, jerked me to my feet and the guitar fell to the ground with a noisy clatter. Amateur, my father would be ashamed.
"I'm not taking any girls out back tonight," I said a little more harshly than I intended, "I'm sorry, I just don't feel like company."
"You flatter yourself, rockstar. I'm not here to seduce you, or allow you to try your moves on me. My name is Afya, and I need to talk with you."
"Yeah, well I don't want that either. Please just leave."
"Matthew, listen…"
"Don't call me that. My name is Matt. Matt Black, just like the colour."
"Black isn't a colour."
"Whatever. What are you doing here anyway? Where the hell is my security?"
"Your security is sleeping, and I came here to kill you. But don't worry, I've pretty much given up on that idea."
My precious guitar could have fit neatly into the gaping hole that was my mouth, she caught me that off-guard. As lithe as a panther she strode up and sat down next to me, hugging her raised knees. My mind was racing, and I slowly let myself slide down the wall next to her.
"You're not going to kill me?"
"No, I decided not to."
"Thanks, that's… very kind," I said faintly.
"Look, I know this is all coming as a shock, but it'll all make sense if you can just focus. Now, you received a message a while ago, didn't you? A rather important message, delivered in a fairly memorable fashion."
"Yes, three months ago, the datastick was attached to an arrow, it told me to stay away and not pursue my father's death."
"Well, those same people gave me orders to kill you tonight."
"But why didn't they do it back then, themselves? That arrow could have just as easily gone through my head as beside it."
"They changed their minds, or you poked your nose where you shouldn't have, I don't know. They don't tell me these things."
"What do they tell you? Here's a name, go give him a one-way pass out of the universe?" "Something like that."
"Then what changed? Was it my ruggedly good looks? My god-like presence on the stage?" Even I'll admit that my laugh was a little hysterical, "Could you simply not bring yourself to bump me off? You know they'll be after you too now."
"That's why I need your help, and I'm not asking for it, I expect it. We're more alike than you would know. The only reason I'm doing this for the Olivian crew is because they held my father hostage. I have no personal wish to see you dead."
"Aren't you putting his life in danger then? The Olivians show no mercy, as my own father discovered."
"I have a source in their estate where they bunk when not coursing for targets, my father died three days ago. They no longer have a hold on me," She stood abruptly and walked away, blending into the velvety darkness of the stage curtains. Her voice echoed hollowly from beyond them, "Come with me. I go to kill their captain and repay both our debts. Or you can stay here and wait for their next assassin. It's up to you."
In moments the stage wings were deserted.
"I know of a bartender here on Calliope who can help, Ratri will tell us everything we need to know about the Olivians. I hear she's expensive, but I should be able to cover it. I haven't blown all my money on drink and women," I hurried to catch up with Afya's purposeful stride, wondering where she was headed. Her confidence was unsettling.
"Not necessary, I have the information we need. We travel tonight, I just wanted to pick you up. Rumor has it you were raised by assassins, and that could come in very handy. I don't know if I could beat their swordmaster captain alone."
"I turned my back on that profession years ago, you can't count on me to be any help."
"Not even for your father's honour?" She stopped and looked at me with those disconcerting eyes as I paused mid-step.
She'd touched a nerve, curse her. Without thinking what I was doing I threw down my beloved guitar, shattering it on the cold surface of the space station. Afya watched impassively as I quickly separated the weapons from the wreckage, and continued without comment once I was armed.
She led me to the dock and onto her spacecraft, a dart-like black model called 'Apathy'. If any ship was said to resemble its owner, this was it.
She saw me frown in confusion over the name and grinned, "I've made a lot of money off other peoples' apathy, but that's a story for another time." I couldn't help it, I hesitated at the entrance to her ship.
"I've been trying for months to infiltrate their crew, to find some breach I can use, but I haven't been able to. Why should I trust that you've succeeded where I've failed?"
"Because, rockstar, this is what I do. I trade weaponry, and have even traded with the Olivians before, so I keep my eye on them. You've been looking for a way in, this is it."
The airlock was just about to close on my best chance of revenge, and with only a faint twinge of regret for all the girls I was leaving behind, I stepped into the belly of the ship.
Afya introduced me briefly to the crew, but she was as scarce with details as I'd come to expect from her brusque manner. They were a bizarre bunch, everything from a disgruntled and graying scientist to a technicolored alien who didn't seem to talk much. But they knew their jobs, and in no time Apathy was skimming away from the space station Calliope and towards the heart of their enemies. My mind was racing as I entered the stasis pod that would make the journey seem instantaneous. The vengeance I had dreamed of was at hand, providing Afya could be trusted and nothing went wrong.
"I received word that their fleet had returned to base," Afya whispered, crouched in the bushes of the lavish manor, "They always spend a week or so carousing after a good pillage. I couldn't face them all in the open skies with just Apathy alone, but we have a chance here, where they feel most secure."
From a small ditch we looked up at a complex made iridescent by churning lights and the occasional explosion as the pirates inside celebrated their plunder. We were on a small asteroid orbiting around a forgotten world that was once richly inhabited but now was picked clean by the vultures of humanity. It would have cost a fortune to erect such a large atmo-shield as spanned above the estate, and likewise to transport enough fertile soil to sustain life on this barren rock floating in empty space. But money they had aplenty, as I knew firsthand from the cleaned-out coffers I'd found after my father's death.
"The captain will be on the second floor, he won't be associating with…" I swore as a chitinous and razor-sharp appendage struck the soft soil by my chest. Both Afya and I moved instinctively, rolling away from the attack and springing to our feet on either side in a flanking maneuver.
"Fools," The large green alien spat, "Delinvir would have blessed you with a quick death, but now you will die as all humans who fight me have died."
"Any ideas?" I yelled desperately to Afya.
"Keep it talking."
"Um, yeah, sure. Yo, big green guy, if you hate humans why are you working as their watchdog? There's dozens of nasty humans up there for you to kill, much more sport than us."
"The captain of the Olivians is a visionary, that is why I tolerate those humans, for now. In time I shall send them all to Nir'kin and replace them with my brothers. We shall be victorious in wiping the human stain from our galaxy," Delinvir menaced me with his serrated tail, small striking blows that I struggled to deflect. It was alarmingly clear how much of an advantage he held over me.
"You're a hypocrite, you're working for the Olivian captain. You're his puppet, his pet!" I leapt out of the way as Delinvir lunged, narrowly missing me.
"What makes you think the captain is human?" He hissed, and his mocking laugh carried out into the night. Afya took the opportunity of his inattention to strike, throwing herself upon his back and pounding his chest with an armored hand. The metallic glove she wore whined softly as it came into contact with the sticky brown blood seeping from the cracks in Delinvir's chitin exoskeleton. The alien writhed, trying to fling her from his back and she cried out once. Light flared briefly and when the blinding aftermath faded she was on the ground. The alien was nowhere to be seen.
"What did you do?" I hurried to help her up.
"Careful," She said, shedding the glove and throwing it far away, "Don't let any blood touch it. It's a prototype that sends its victim to another dimension. I didn't have time to program it for somewhere deservedly awful, but anywhere was better than here."
I stumbled under her weight as she fell forward, unable to keep her feet, and I saw a long gash biting through the flesh of her back.
"You're hurt!"
"And you're being obvious," She gritted her teeth as she stood up again, "There was poison on his tail, I smelled it when I got close. There's an antidote on my ship and I know I can make it, but I need you to go on without me."
"Are you crazy? I don't have a hope without you. You're hurt, I need to get you back to the medi-bay on your ship."
"Don't you listen, I'll make it! We'll never have a better chance, take it and avenge both our fathers. That's an order, go!"
She turned her back on me and I watched helplessly as she limped off into the shadows. I've never felt so alone.
In many cultures pride was considered the first mistake, the first sin, and it was pride that would undo the Olivian crew. In their minds they were the attackers, never the victims. They were so sure of their own security that I found little difficulty in evading the drunken pirates on watch duty and then climbing to a second story balcony. My ninja reflexes were finally returning, giving me a surety in my moves and a rush of adrenaline that I'd only ever before felt on stage.
I entered the building silently, but something must have given away my presence as light suddenly flooded the room. I was caught, bathed in the sudden lamp glow with an ancient lazerkatana in my hand.
"Have you come to kill me then?" A jovial old man stood in the doorway, "If so, have at it. All my boys are below enjoying themselves, and I could do with some sport myself."
"Funny, murderer, you had your alien pet out there convinced you weren't human. Nice trick." "Nice trick? I can think of a better one," As I watched the captain's body became fluid, a viscous lime gel that rearranged itself into the form of a green-skinned girl with pink hair, "Are you sure you aren't the one being deceived? And why call me murderer when you stand in my apartments with sword drawn?"
"You killed my father, and I'm going to make you pay." She rolled her eyes and sighed, "You have no idea how many times I've heard that, sport, and how much I really don't care," With a girlish giggle she drew an elegant blade from a sheath on her back. From the way she held it I knew she was an expert fighter, despite her immature mannerisms.
As I faced her I grew calm, all the worries of the past months fell away and I felt a pure clarity of mind; this was where I was supposed to be. I was about to fight a shape-shifting alien swordmaster, with her barbaric crew of pirates only a call away. What could possibly go wrong?
I took my first step forward…
