Aquetas: Destiny Unknown

Captain Jonathan Crusade, “JC” to most that knew him, approached the sealed tunnel access to his ship. Sensors whirled and buzzed around him as they checked for any contaminations, or illegal contraband. A red light went off after passing his chest, but his weapon was cleared so whoever was monitoring overrode the temporary halt in processing. The scan took less than five minutes and soon the doorway to the tunnel opened with a small hiss. JC proceeded forward to his ship.



As he walked down the tunnel he could see her from the portholes. The Aquetas, a Viper Class Mk. IV cargo freighter, was his pride and joy. She was old, battle scarred and not too pretty to look at. She was a quilt of patched hull plates, dull paint, and engines slightly larger than it seemed they originally were. However, she was his and she was reliable. She had gotten him out of more than a scrape or two with pirates and law enforcers alike. Over the years she had been shot at, rammed into, and collided with, but she never quit. JC smiled to himself. Kinda like me.



Maybe if JC had picked a safer profession the Aquetas would be in better condition, but hard times called for a new breed of captain and crew. Not like in the war days of JC’s youth. No, nothing was about courage and honor now. JC didn’t skim the edges of space keeping the peace. Now he hunted jobs down that needed a different expertise. He did odd jobs for people who didn’t always want to go the legal route. In other words, he had become a smuggler.



It wasn’t the most glamorous of vocations, but it paid well. It paid well at least when you could get a job in these parts. Seemed like jobs were getting scarce around this sector of the Alliance. This was due, in part, of the increase in private security firms, firms that offered the same services as smugglers, but had connections in the government. That meant, lower risk, higher cost, but these people would pay the higher cost in lieu of paying the fines and court costs in the case of a smuggler getting caught.



The one thing that kept JC in business was that he was damned good at his job. JC knew all the routes to go, all the checkpoints to avoid, and he always had a trick or two waiting for any pirates or bounty hunters who tried to get him, and when it came to Galactic Police forces, he knew running away was the better option. JC was a dying breed, and his customers knew that, so at least when he did get a job he got top dollar.



JC hit the access panel to his ship. The doors opened slowly. The hydraulics in the ship had been acting funny the last two port visits. He made a mental note to remind his engineer to have it fixed ASAP. He stepped into the cargo bay. Looking around he could see his crew had gotten their work done before taking shore leave. The ship’s skiff was parked to the right. It was an older model hover skiff that always seemed to break down, but he’d got it for free when he bought the ship so it seemed like a fine deal. There was no disorder to the miscellaneous things about the bay, so that was good too.



He walked over to a wall and placed his hand firmly on its center. It slid open revealing a hidden cargo hold. He peeked inside and noticed the packages that were his next job. They were destined for Toola outpost. A military base on the edge of the quadrant. He smiled to himself, probably illegal hooch and naughty mags. The usual, but he had been paid top dollar by an unnamed military person, so he wouldn’t even linger on the thought. As long as it wouldn’t explode in his ship, it was good. Everything looked in order, so JC shut the secret hatch and headed to his quarters. They weren’t due to depart for another few hours so he would use the time to rest his eyes a bit.



As he made his way of the ladder well to the crew deck he passed a smiling Skye. Skye was his pilot. She was the best darn pilot and navigator in the system even if she was just in her late teens. He had picked her up when she had gotten into some trouble at a race he watched. She was cheated out of a win. Sabotage. She had tried to argue this, with a wrench in hand, but it seemed the thugs who ran it didn’t care, so before she got herself hurt JC stepped in and rescued her.



“Hey Cap!” she said with a silly grin. JC waved, “Hey Skye, how was shore leave?”

She just blushed and giggled. “Adventurous.” JC paused as if to wait for an explanation, but realized he probably didn’t want to know. “Well that’s dandy. Remember, pre-flight checks in 4 hours. We got a job running out to Toola outpost.” Skye jumped up and down giddy. “I love military guys! I’ll be ready Cap! She said as she ran off. JC sighed, “That’s Captain! There’s more to the word you know.” He called out, but she was gone.



He climbed up another deck and got off at the crew quarters. The crew deck was simply a deck with 6 rooms, 3 on either side, and only 4 of them were occupied by himself, Skye, his 2nd in command Eli, and Keara, their friendly on board assassin. Their engineer, Jack, slept in the engine room. He likes the smell he says.



JC’s room was at the end on the left. On his door it clearly said, “Capn’”. It was Skye’s idea. So that no one would make a mistake. JC laughed to himself. He punched his key in and waited for the door to open with its familiar metal thunk. He stepped in and began to take his shirt off. “Hey there love.” A voice called to him. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Keara?” he asked, although he knew the answer.



Keara was an assassin. She was an orphan raised by a sect of women isolationists on a secret planet. They learned discipline and martial arts, and were hired out as bodyguards. No one would expect a woman who looked like a simple escort to be capable of taking out several assassin’s on her own. Keara though was special, as she always pointed out. She grew tired of that life and decided to take her skills to the opposite side and become an assassin herself. She was known in the quadrant for a remarkable 100% kill ratio with over 500 deaths by her hand alone.



What wasn’t widely known is that at one time she was hired to kill JC. When she snuck in on him in the room he was staying in something happened and she couldn’t do it. So she faked his death and then took it upon herself to follow him around as part of his crew. JC still doesn’t know why she didn’t do it, but in Keara’s words, she had finally found love. Unfortunately JC wasn’t interested even though Keara was far beyond beautiful.



“Yes, it’s me my love.” She answered back. He turned around to ask what she was doing, but the words left him before he could speak. There she was, right in front of him, completely naked! She slinked towards him and put her arms around his neck. “What’s wrong love, cat got your tongue?” she said as she slowly started nipping at his neck. “K…Keara… you really need to…” JC stammered out. Keara put a finger on his lips. “The only thing I need to do…” she said as her hand slid down his chest to his belt line, “is get these off of you.” She yanked his belt off and JC screamed.



This made Keara laugh and press on. “We’re gonna have fun…” she was interrupted by the door opening up and Eli coming in with his pistol drawn. “Captain, I heard you scream and…and… uh… Captain?” Eli was staring at the scene, unsure of what was going on. Keara smirked, “Can’t you see we’re busy here?” Eli blushed, “Oh, well I umm…” JC used this momentary distraction to grab his belt and move away. “We’re not busy with anything, and she was just leaving!” he yelled in frustration.



Keara scowled at him, “Fine.” She moved past Eli, “I’ll get you one day Crusade.” She said as she turned the corner. JC scowled back as Eli held back a laugh. “That’s Captain!” he yelled back at her. He turned to his 2nd in command. “Why can’t anyone just call me captain?” Eli finally gave in and started laughing. “Just another normal aboard the Aquetas, right Captain?”



CH. 2



The Aquetas and her crew. A ship and crew for hire. Captain Jonathan Crusade, a war veteran turned smuggler. Captain was more than a title. It was his rank before he left the service. Elijah Warshaw, 2nd in command. Ex Galactic marine. He served as an urban assault ground pounder and intelligence officer, but he was discharged for questionable conduct. Nobody asks him about it. Skye Orelius, daughter to a prestigious mining family and young piloting adept. She’s bubbly and childish, but she can outmaneuver any other ship in the galaxy. Keara “Kae” Redsun. The deadly lady assassin. The Hired muscle and weapons expert aboard the ship. And last but not least, Jack Steele. He’s by far the best, if not the most absent minded, engineer in the quadrant.



JC had amassed a small freak show of people for his crew, but in their own way they were perfect for each other, that and Jack was a damn fine cook. This was the crew of the Aquetas and their names were now throughout the quadrant. Although not always for a good reason.



"Aquetas, this is Peace Harbor Control, over." Buzzed the harbor control officer over the radio. Skye hurried to reach the com, but Eli got to it first. “Peace Harbor Control, this is the Aquetas, we are standing by for dock release authorization. All status lights are green.” He smirked at Skye who slumped in her chair. “I wanted to answer that.” She said. JC stood behind the two in front of his captain’s chair. He eyed it nervously, made a move towards it, but didn’t sit in it. It felt too familiar and brought back memories.





"Aquetas, Harbor Control. Clear to go. Docking lamps released." With a magnetic buzz the Aquetas started moving under its own power. The inertial dampeners kicked in and Skye made the minor adjustments to their exit course. As the Aquetas moved away from the station JC took in the breath taking view of the hodge podge relic of times before. Peace Harbor Station was a derelict research station that the Federation forgot. Rouges and scavengers eventually turned it into a place of buisness. It wasn't a place for respectable buisness until the recent reorganization of the crime bosses there.