Elite: Dangerous
By Zoë A. Porter
Summary: When privateer and space ship commander Anwen Hunter gets a job from the lady in charge, she doesn't know that she is into a lot more than she bargained for.
Pairing: Anwen/Aisling Duval
Rating: PG (13): mild violence, strong language
License: copyright on Elite Dangerous by Frontier Development
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Rendevous
The ships engines howled when the Merope, a Diamondback Explorer that had seen half of the known galaxy, pulled itself out of frame shift. The blue glow of electrically charged particles, that were forced back into normal space and below light speed, engulfed the cockpit. Using the momentum from being pushed out of the frame shift, Anwen turned the ship retrograde and fired the normal space engines, parking the ship in a near-polar orbit around the small moon that had been named as a rendezvous point to pick up her passengers. Not perfectly circular, but close enough.
“ASTRA, scan for contacts, please.” She instructed her ship’s computer.
“Affirmative, Commander.” ASTRA’s soothing voice replied. It took about five minutes before a blip appeared just above the horizon.
“Scanning.” ASTRA informed her, and seconds later the contact’s stats were displayed on the cockpit HUD.
“What the hell?” Anwen looked at the data. The ship was small. In fact it was a shuttle of the kind you would find on larger space liners and the huge clippers, designed for atmospheric landing, but without frame shift drive. However, there was no sign of a mother ship. The ship was transmitting the coded beacon she had been given as authentication.
“How did they get here?” Anwen asked aloud.
“I’m sorry commander, I have insufficient data to answer that!” ASTRA replied. Although the AI was usually pretty good at distinguishing a conversation between two people from a command directed at her, she had no concept of rhetorical questions. As she lacked any humour and sense of irony.
“Never mind, ASTRA. Do you see a frame shift wake around?”
“Negative.”
“So, they must have been here for quite a while.” Anwen thought.
She had been instructed in the second message to keep absolute radio silence, so she did not hail the ship.
“ASTRA, put us on an intercept orbit.” She said out loud.
A satisfying metallic clonk indicated that the docking module had connected with the hatch of the shuttle. Since all ship manufacturers had agreed on a standard docking system, for a couple of hundred years now, all space ships could be docked with each other flawlessly.
Anwen unlatched the holster of her blaster, and readied her weapon. You’ll never know what comes through an airlock, when you open it.
She unlocked the airlock, and the door slid open immediately. Before she could draw her gun the man behind it had her pinned against the wall, his assault rifle right in front of her face. He wore full riot gear, and looked like serious business.
“Identification!” He bellowed.
Anwen tried to regain her composure, and raised her hands above her head.
“Hey, no need to be so rude!” She said, trying to sound confident. “And don’t point that thing at me!”
“Identification!” The man repeated.
“I’m Commander Anwen Hunter, and this is my ship.”
“Stand down, soldier!” A female voice from inside the shuttle said. “We still want to hire her, remember?”
The grunt grabbed Anwen’s gun, and took a step back. “Hey!” Anwen said, but she did not try to get her gun back.
The owner of the voice now appeared in the doorway. A young woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a fancy white dress, and blue hair. Anwen gasped. What in the galaxy was the princess Aisling Duval doing in this god-forsaken place?
The princess smiled warmly. “You’ll have to excuse Major Hitchens; being concerned with my safety is his job. So he doesn’t like surprises.”
The princess turned around, and waved at the third passenger, a woman who looked around fifty years old and very old fashioned.
“This,” the princess introduced her companion, “is Genna. She is my handmaiden, former governess, and trusted friend.”
Anwen reached out her hand. “Hello!”
The older woman looked at her, but she didn’t take the hand.
Instead she turned to her mistress. “Princess, I must protest! This is not, in anyway suitable for you! This ship is a pile of junk, dirty, and that space-scum is hardly a suitable commander. This is beneath you!”
“Genna, this is quite enough!” The princess cut in. Her tone left no doubt that she would not take any argument.
She looked back at Anwen. “You must excuse her. She is not used to this mode of travel. May we continue?”
Anwen looked confused, but nodded. Now Hitchens, the grunt, took initiative again.
“Any more crew aboard?” He asked.
“Just me.”
“Mind, if I have a look around?”
Anwen shook her head. “Just don’t press any buttons.”
The soldier ushered her forward, so she took the lead, and led them into the ship. It was the weirdest tour of her space ship Anwen could remember. While she explained the interior of the ship to her guests, and showed them the facilities, Hitchens insisted on looking inside every cupboard and drawer in search of whatever he was looking for.
Anwen was beginning to get a little annoyed. “You like my underwear?” She said, when the grunt opened the drawers in her personal quarters.
The princess shrugged. “I can’t stop him either.”
When the tour was over, they ended up in the mess. “That was the full tour.” Anwen concluded. “We all meet here, breakfast is at six-thirty, lunch at noon and dinner at 7. The bridge and the engine room are off-limits, unless I tell you otherwise. Any other questions?”
The princess looked to her soldier, who shook his head. “No objections.” He said.
“All right,” Anwen looked directly at the princess now. “Your Highness, may I ask a question then?”
Aisling Duval nodded. “You want to know why I hired you to take me to Auserid?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Well, let’s just say, I have the need to travel incognito.”
“But you have a whole fleet at your disposal. Why not take one of your own ships?”
“I have my reasons. Can we talk about the route you’re planning to take?”
“Well, the old lady may not look like much, but she has a jump range of 27 light years. Four jumps, and we’re there.”
The princess nodded. “I thought so. Do you think we can take a little detour?”
Anwen was puzzled. “A detour?”
“Yes, I think it would be an advantage, if it looked as if you jumped in from the rim. As far as I know, you could credibly be on your way home from the Pleiades.”
“You want to go to Maia? That’s quite a long detour!”
“No, I only want you to plot a course that makes it look like you where coming from there. So no one will suspect you to actually came from here.”
Anwen’s head spun. Why would Aisling Duval want to hide her traces. She could show up everywhere, and be treated like the empress herself. Unless, of course…
“Pardon me for asking bluntly, but are you on the run from someone?”
The princess smiled. “Let’s just say, I don’t want to announce my journey to Auserid publicly.”
Anwen nodded; for the moment that was all she could hope for. And was this really any of her business? Most likely not. She pulled out her mobile data pad, and projected a galaxy map into the air.
“We could jump to N’Galakan, Zhuaha and then Sokram. It’s more or less a direct route, but not the most common. We will arrive at Abe Landing around 4pm universal time tomorrow.”
Duval seemed satisfied. “That sounds good. Major Hitchens?”
“Acceptable, although I am not convinced the delay is neccessary.”
She turned back to Anwen. “Make it so.”