I have posted some various fiction already. This is just a fan fiction on being a fuel rat slash galactic pain in the butt.
Paul Kavinsky is a fuel rat and pirate currently flying an Asp nameD Sena. I am posting my big works of fictions here but my more routine smaller stuff will remain on the Fuel rat meg thread.
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Paul looked around the rather deserted landing pad. The landing pad was unlike any pad Paul had landed on. Instead of the hustle and bustle of a busy star port there was a solitary figure standing near some Roman columns. The Pad was silent the bright afternoon sun beating down on them. “Uh why the heck was I pulled over by half the Imperial Navy, Hey buddy you there with the silk shirt I’m talkin to ya”. He looked over his shoulder he could still see the two imperial eagles that had escorted him down. He walked up to the figure “hey man you hard of hearing or something”? “Please honored guest can you follow me this way” The loud screeching sound of an Asp Explorer de accelerating drowned out any other attempts at communicating with the man. Paul looked up and saw Watar maneuvering his ship HMS Nezumi into final approach. The man just started walking down the stone pathway. Paul looked around realizing that he landed on a stone pier in the middle of a bay. He looked ahead of him there was a large ornate structure jutting out of the mountain side. The wind was gusting the fresh cool breeze from the sea was refreshing as he walked. Paul followed the man because he had no choice running was not an option in the Cubeo system. The Thirteenth Legion and many other groups would turn him into space dust before he even managed to align Sena to another system. Paul figured the man leading him was a servant of some type. The Imperials were never big on doing things themselves Paul thought. The servant led him through a grand foyer. He noticed two guards join them as they walked through the large circular foyer. Paul took a moment to take in the Foyer. Everything was white and gold. The design was very sleek and modern.
The house had a grand majestic open feel to it. Paul felt the cool breeze from the bay enter the house carrying with the smell of the sea. The servant turned to a long hallway and continued walking. The Guards had their rifles pointed at him. Paul’s footfalls echoed as he walked down the hallway his leather boots scuffing the marble as he walked. The servant made a turn at a large door with a family crest of some sorts and a Latin inscription. He put his hand into the biometric scanner. The door slid open noiselessly. A large study stood before him the shelves lined with paper books. “Quite a collection you have here”. A well-built man with patrician features rose out of his suspensor chair and made the Imperial gesture of greeting. The man’s age had to be no less then forty Paul thought. “Greeting Fuel Rat, I am glad that someone appreciates the finer things in life. I am Baron Gaius Severous” he made a sweeping gesture to all the books on the shelves. Paul scowled “it isn’t very polite to interdict Fuel Rats for a discussion you could of just raised me on radio”. “Have a seat Fuel Rat it is uncivilized to talk matters of importance while standing if you want to be a stickler for manners” Paul walked over and sat in a suspensor chair facing the Baron. “Paul Kavinsky you are a hard man to catch I have been trying to bring you to the monthly The Jansen Freigbek Ball. Ever since you saved that commander thirty one thousand lightyears out we have been trying to track you down and invite you to the ball”. Paul shifted uneasily in his seat feeling the sonic pulses massage his back “I didn’t want to come here. And why do you want me to come to your social function anyways? You could have just gotten some one much more entertaining. How did you track me down anyways I ain’t too happy about that”? The Baron motioned to the servant. The servant walked behind some of the shelves and brought out an older gentleman standing five foot three wearing tux and a blonde woman with green eyes wearing a dress that fit with the current Imperial fashion trends. “They let my forces listen to your radio chatter we heard that there was a rescue in Cubeo we felt it was an opportune time to invite you” Paul sat there with a furious at the same time transfixed look on his face “hey I didn’t sign up for this I am going to my ship see you guys later. Aitken how the heck are you in on this thought I could trust you mate”? Aitken laughed "Sorry mate. They insisted I stay for a few days after rescuing an Imp pilot out near Fehu. They paid me as they said they wanted to hear how the Fuel Rats operated. I had no idea that they wanted to fool you into coming here. I think you can relax my friend as I have been treated with nothing but friendship since I got here." Olivia walked over and stood behind the baron “Paul the Fuel Rats operate on having good relations with all the powers we need to do publicity events such as this. The Baron here needs to firm up his humanitarian credentials in front of Aisling Duval. Inviting the Fuel Rat heroes was an easy way to generate good press. We are here simply to fly the mischief flag. While making the Baron here look good in front of Aisling” Paul ran his hands through his black wavy hair “no choice I can’t get outta this? Where Watar is you guys better not be drowning him in Imperial hospitality”. Gaius smiled and handed Paul a tablet “your friend is currently waiting on the landing pad we wanted to make sure that you would not slip away and knew that this is official. Here is the capitals coordinates I hope to see you there in three hours”.
Paul stood in front of a large building with rounded roofs. It reminded him of a growth of mushrooms. He leaned on a railing taking in the coast. The sun was setting light reflecting off the waves, the sky a dark vermillion. He started walking towards the checkpoint the entrance to the grounds of the ballroom. The crowd of people around the ballroom was eclectic. The gaudiness of Imperial Fashion was on full display here Paul thought to himself. Women with flowing dresses and men with military uniforms or wearing silk robes flowed around Paul as he made his way towards the entrance. Everything felt rather dreamy and unreal to Paul. The whole event seemed not grounded in reality to him. “An illusion to make us feel better about ourselves” Paul thought to himself. He had managed to slip away from Aitken and the rest on the flight over. Some Imperial is not going to be happy with his summer cottage being flattened Paul reckoned. He slowly walked towards the entrance following the rest of Imperial high society in. He walked through a large booth in front of the entrance. Alarms and suddenly everyone around Paul was pointing various ceremonial weapons at him. Two guards ran over to him “outsider please disarm yourself and give your weapons to us then step through the scanner again”. Great Paul thought clones as he looked at the blank faces of the guards as their implants pumped them full of combat stims “look guys I am licensed by the Pilots Federation I have a competent ranking”. “We do not recognize that. This is Imperial tradition you will hand over your weapons, only weapons signifying office or rank is allowed” the guard yelled. Paul lowered his left hand and took off his leather gun belt and handed it to the guards. He then proceeded to walk through the booth again. The booth made a loud noise again. The guards charged their weapons “hey hey don’t blow him away I know he’s a jerk but he would be a waste of energy” Watar out of breath rushed up and tried to defuse the situation. “Alright I’ll just go in all defenseless and vulnerable” Paul took an old single edged combat knife with a wooden handle out of his vest. He then proceeded to take out a small laser pistol out from his ankle. He took out a stiletto knife hidden in the waistband of his pants. He then took out a sawed off shot gun from a shoulder holster, he then took apart his belt buckle taking out another knife. He then pulled out a small .38 revolver from his sleeve. He then took out some grenades from his vest pockets and magazines, loose thirty eight rounds and shotgun shells. He clumped on a tray that an attendant had brought over to collect his weapons. He then walked through the booth again and the alarms went off again. Paul sighed and took out a pair of brass knuckles and Watar looked at him in shock. “Paul this is a social gathering not a warzone”. Watar walked with him through the crowd of Imperials staring and laughing at Paul.
They entered the lobby of the ballroom. It had the same white modernist design as the mansion. They queued up behind the various people trying to enter the ballroom proper. A small foppish looking man with a pencil mustache was announcing titles and ancestry. Paul walked up to the threshold of the room and handed the man his Pilot’s license “Fuel Rat commander wanted in-. I can’t say this here “the man cut it short and motioned for him to enter. Paul looked around the ballroom he was simply astounded by the size of it. Blue imperial banners hung from the ceiling. The fading sunlight of the day filtered in through skylights. The room was lit by some ornate floaty chandeliers. The floor was mosaics depicting the colonization of Achenar. Paul meandered into the ballroom feeling rather lost. “How did he end up here” he wondered himself as he walked past couples dancing. There was ivy growing up some of the columns and walls. Paul looked at all the bright colors and jewels and rubies from across the galaxy he felt rather under dressed. He stopped and looked at various statues that were made out of panite. Most of the statues were in the shapes of the various ancient Roman gods and goddesses. He passed a woman with green hair wearing a strapless line skirt and made out of black taffeta fabric. The music was some grand symphony or something played by live musicians. He definitely stood out here it made him uncomfortable. “Paul good, I finally found you, where’s your date”? Olivia walked to him her dress reflecting the sunlight filtering through the skylights. “What date, great you arranged me to get married too” Paul scowled at Olivia. “No stupid I got you and the guys dates to make you guys fit into imperial society. It’s just odd for people in imperial society not to have dates at these events like this oh there she is”. Paul did not catch the rest of it. He managed to slip behind a rather corpulent man on a hover sled gliding by. The sled led him to the buffet. It was overflowing with food from across the galaxy. Paul grabbed a plate and began to stuff his plate with some food. He suddenly lurched forward as Aitken swung his arm around him “hahaha knew I would find you here. Come join us and the rest of the rats and some admirers”. Aitken steered Paul to a crowd of people.
He saw Watar and his date and various Imperial officials. “I think slavery is a barbaric and unseemly practice we must abolish it” he was a young rather handsome Imperial official probably scion of some wealthy family. “The Federation is ahead of us significantly in technology. The Federals have a much more diverse military then our clones they can call upon millions of conscripts who bring much more versatility to the battlefield then our clones. The fact that we cannot use imperial slaves in war significantly cuts the available manpower” another young officer blustered. A short plump merchant chimed in “the free labor force the Federals has much more flexibility in adapting to market conditions”. The young scion turned to Paul “what do you think Commander? A well-traveled man such as yourself must have an opinion” Paul looked at all the faces expecting him to say something “The Federations free labor force is no better than your slaves. The Mega corporations often times do not pay their workers a wage to feed and clothe themselves. None in the Federation would really care less if half their work force can’t feed and clothe themselves. They normally justify it by saying if their workers had good spending habits they would not be hungry. The Feds conscript children sometimes to fight in their wars against various Imperial factions. Federation conscripts are often men and women given the bare minimum of training and sent to a battlefield far from home to die for a cause they have no knowledge of”. The Imperials look at Paul and some clap. The young scion smirked smugly “Hear this citizens we are superior to the Federation we have the best linages the best traits that mankind can offer. An Imperial officer is a volunteer ready to defend the honor and dignity of his bloodline. A commoner cannot defeat a man of worthy lineage. Our workers are well cared for given honorable work instead of being exploited by the corrupt oligarchs of the Federation”. Paul looked down at his boots and muttered “sure you guys do that’s why you want to abolish slavery so you don’t have to feed and clothe them and look dishonorable for not doing that” The young scion walked up to Paul and stared him down “you shut your mouth outsider or I will gut you”! Paul stared right back at the hothead “stinking spoiled imp ill-““enough there you are”! Olivia shouted. “Paul I need you to come with me they are going to start honoring the Fuel Rats in half hour I need you and Watar, Aitken to be seen conversing with the Baron and the Princess. For once Paul can you not try to upset the locals.”. “No it’s alright you all go I am not into the spotlight much enjoy your rewards congrats” Aitken disappeared back into the crowd before Olivia could stop him.
Olivia led Paul and Watar through the revelers at the ball. Paul noticed that even the smell of the entire room was managed it was a light perfume that was meant to remind guests of a warm summer evening. Olivia brought the Rats to a crowd of rather important Imperials along with the Baron. They stood next to a large raised platform. Paul nodded at the Baron and the various officials there. “Commander why do you have such antique weaponry, I could not help to notice most of the weapons you had were ballistic based. Surely Federals are able to afford the latest in laser and magnetic accelerator guns” A skinny older gentleman in an Imperial Commodores uniform asked him. Paul fought the urge to give out a smart remark “Because those weapons still require power sources the basic slug thrower has definitely seen better days. The Slug thrower still has better range than some of your laser weapons”. The commodore continued to eye Paul measuring him up as a threat “but your slug throwers require a supply of ammunition that would run out. You would be at a great disadvantage of someone armed with laser weaponry”. Paul shrugged “Ammunition is still plentiful on most planets I can get ammo for my guns in any outpost”. Paul looked and saw a small figure clad in a tight fitting dress. Her hair was an unnatural dark blue. She had delicate features and green eyes. She moved into the group with the practiced ease of a professional socialite. She greeted the various officials from highest standing then to lowest standing. She then turned her attention to the Rats. “I take it these the heroes who many of our commanders owe their lives to”? Baron Severous said while making the Imperial sign of deference “yes they are your highness”. “Hello Fuel Rats I am Princess Aisling Duval daughter of Prince Harold Duval”. Paul was almost completely hypnotized by her beauty and poise if it was not for being a cynic he would have been hypnotized. Paul glanced over he saw Watar was mesmerized and Oliva had already drank the Imperial cool aid. Both Watar and Olivia bowed and greeted the princess. “What is with this Rat is he a mute or something and why is he not following the theme for tonight” She eyed Paul with cold eyes. Paul stared back with equally hard eyes. He thought back to when he had just gotten a type 6 named Stars End. He was given a job to move Aisling Duval media materials. He was ambushed by two Fer De Lances and barely escaped with his life. It turned out that Aisling supporters had hired two mercenary Fer De Lances to kill Paul to make him an unwilling martyr. They wanted him dead to get good press and create a martyr for the cause. “I am not mute I just do not like events like this or the Empire” he warily eyed his opponent. “I am sorry to hear that but I seek to create a better Empire and the money raised here will go to freeing thousands of slaves kept in bondage” a small round of applause was heard from the officials gathered. She then moved off to talk with the Baron avoiding to have a confrontation with Paul.
“That was not so nice Paul” Olivia sternly told him. “We are trying to get publicity here the more people hear of us the more lives we save” convenient Paul thought. “Why do you support the Imperial cause Olivia”? Olivia turned her head to face Paul “the Federation is hopelessly corrupt. I have a bad history with them. Let’s just say they shot at me a few times. The Empire stands for something where as the Federation is just about getting rich”. Paul smirked “I don’t really see that difference considering the food here probably eclipses some planets annual GDP”. “Smart alec” she scowled at him “Do you know how much damage control I have already had to do tonight for your actions”? Paul tried not to break out laughing “I’m sure all of it can be solved with some matrona experience jelly”. “Paul I had to comfort your date and tell her friends that you did not think of her as some ugly beast that you did not want to be seen with, even for a simple social gathering” Paul shrugged “not my problem I don’t particularly want to be here or parade around some socialite as if she is my property or something for just simple tradition and social standing” Olivia raised her voice “Real convenient time for a pirate like you to suddenly have morals. Considering what I have heard what you told Rebecca to do with the stowaway on her ship. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical of you to suddenly care about exploitation? For once Paul just act like a hero enjoy it. You will not die from it”. “I ain’t trying to be on some moral high horse I am what I am Olivia and I am fine with it. Don’t like others running around believing that they are infallible because no one is” Olivia frowned “Paul the difference between you and me is that I do what I have to for the benefit of society. You do what you do for your own selfish gain”. Olivia turned away from Paul and went to talk with Watar. Paul stood there listening to the idle conversations. Suddenly the room went quiet when Aisling walked up the stage to the podium “like I need you to judge me” Paul thought.
“Nobles, Patrons, Cliens, citizens and outsiders I thank you for coming to this ball and supporting our noble cause to help those who are not as fortunate as us. Slavery is a barbaric practice that was abolished long ago by our ancestors. Yet the Empire still practices it as a way to restore honor. There is no honor in selling you mind and body to pay a debt. It is a degrading practice and should be outlawed in Imperial space. We will do our best to help these unfortunates and lead them into prosperity through our morality and honor. Tonight Baron Gaius Severous wants to honor some heroes who have saved a commander who ran out of fuel here in the Cubeo system. The Fuel Rats have been saving commanders over the past year we would like honor their contributions to Imperial space and recognize their humanitarian efforts” Aisling backed away from the platform to give Baron Severous the podium. Olivia motioned to Paul and Watar to get up on the platform. Paul walked up the platform hesitantly his stage fright was starting to get to him. “Greetings my fellow citizens I have invited the Fuel Rats to our celebration to honor their achievements. I am personally committed to helping anyone who is in need. I am devoted Imperial and I believe in Aisling’s cause. I have personally invited the Fuel Rats to this event and even used some of my own wealth to make it possible to have this event. I pledge my support and my family’s support of the noble Aisling Duval. Who would have made an excellent Empress in my opinion”. Aisling took a tray of medals from an attendant and walked up to Olivia “I present you with the Order of the Azure Falcon for your contributions to Imperial society and your current work within the Fuel Rats”. She pinned a medal to Olivia’s dress and walked up to Watar. “I present you with the Order of the Azure Falcon for you Watar for saving a commander in Cubeo and putting your life on the line for others time and time again”. Paul looked ahead seeing mass of people who would soon have their eyes on him. Aisling glided over to Paul “Paul Kavinsky this has been long overdue of all the pilots who went thirty thousand light years and beyond to save a pilot. You have not been honored yet for your actions. I present you with the order of Azure Falcon for your bravery in saving the stranded explorer and saving a pilot here in Cubeo. She pinned the Medal on Paul’s vest. “Stooop. This man is a criminal I challenge him to a duel to the death for insulting our Empire and smuggling narcotics into our society! If I remember this crime is punishable by death. Most of all he has dishonored the princess”! Paul looked at the crowd and saw a very familiar Imperial scion. Aisling turned away from Paul “there is no need to take the law into your own hands Paul will answer for his crimes after the ceremony”. The man responds “By Imperial law I challenge him if he kills me his crimes shall be forgiven. If I kill him he will have paid his debt to society”. An individual walked up to Aisling and whispered into her ear “yes the dual can happen if Paul agrees to it”. Olivia walks up to Paul “sorry for dragging you into this I did not think you were wanted”. Paul scowled “no problem I have managed to stay alive this long I’ll get out of this somehow”. Paul walked towards the front of the platform “I accept I want my weapons back if this is ok with you”. The man smirked “yes should make no difference I will kill you anyways”.
Paul found himself standing on a field. A cool gust of wind whips his hair across his face as Paul stood sizing up his enemy. An attendant sets the storage box with all his weapons down. He eyes his opponent who had finally learned that his name was James Maroni. His opponent had killed fifty men in such duals. He was genetically modified he had twice the intelligence and ability of a normal man. This was not counting the combat implants that he had. He was armed with an exotic saber. Paul thought that the man let him have his arsenal to at least make it entertaining for him. Olivia briefly walked up to him “this is stupid Paul and it is putting at risk all the good work we have done. You have eluded them this long surely a prison escape attempt is feasible” Paul shrugged “I am dead either way better to end it here than being executed on my knees. I either win and walk away or I lose and die simple as that” Paul looked around noting that there was a small crowd. Paul did not like his odds or duals like this. He thought Duals like this were stupid and most of the time no one kept their word. He looked across the field his body was paralyzed with fear as he thought of the many rather bad ways this could end. His mind raced he kept thinking of all the ways he could die. The iron grip of fear began to strangle Paul’s mind. Paul wondered where Aitken was he could use the man’s advice right now. He began to get in control of his fear not thinking about how this will end always helped.
The second walked up “this is a dual to the death any means to kill your opponent is allowed. Gentlemen you can start anytime”. His heart racing Paul reached into his pocket and grabbed a grenade and pulled the pin. James was already charging at him as Paul pulled out his pistol and began to fire. The sharp and loud report of Paul’s nine millimeter pistol echoing throughout the still night as he frantically fired. James managed to deflect the lead with is sword the ones he could not deflect hitting his armored body suite underneath his fashionable coat. He rapidly closed the distance between him and Paul sparks bouncing off his sword. Paul was down to the fifth round in his magazine holding the spoon of the hand grenade. Paul sidestepped into his opponents stab. Shooting the last of his magazine into James who stumbled backwards not expecting Paul to be able to avoid him. Paul quickly back pedaled while holstering his pistol to grab the snub nose revolver he kept. He continued to fire his revolver feelings its reassuring kick as he tried to keep the sights on his target. James kept deflecting his shots. James went for a slash this time trying to bisect Paul. He bent backwards to dodge falling on his back while grabbing the knife in his belt stabbing James in the foot. James howled in pain as Paul rolled away dodging a sloppy downward stab. Paul got up to his feet as James took the knife out of his foot. Paul backpedaled trying to get more distance between him. In holding the fuse of the grenade Paul was forcing his opponent to not kill him. If he was killed James would have four seconds to get out of the blast range and take his chances on not having shrapnel shredding him. James smiled at Paul “you truly are stupid”. He threw his sword at Paul hitting him in the arm carrying the grenade. Paul felt a sharp pain as cold steel went through skin and bone. He dropped the grenade. Paul started to run as panic began to overtake him. There was a loud sharp boom. Shrapnel went everywhere. Paul felt an intense burning pain in his back and legs he collapsed as he cried out. Paul’s body had now hit the hilt of the sword as he fell burying the sword deeper into his body. His fear was now threatening to overtake his control. Thoughts of death cloud his mind as it races. James kicks Paul over and removes his sword from his arm. “Now I am going to teach you to respect your betters and the laws of society” He kicks Paul swiftly in the ribs breaking them. Paul screams in agony.
James then starts to break Paul’s various bones and periodically stabs him at certain nerve centers. Paul was now barely able to breathe every breath sent sharp pain through him. Paul’s mind is now engulfed by pain. He desperately tries to think. His mind suddenly blanks out knowing that he must act now. In desperation he moves his broken arm and grabbed the holstered sawed off shotgun shooting James in the face with hundreds of iron pellets. The recoil of the shotgun mangling his arm as bone breaks from the skin. James keels over dead with half his face missing. Paul heard a sharp crack a sharpshooter had missed his mark Paul was not getting out of here alive. The loud scream of engines engulfs the field. An Asp landed and a familiar man came out grabbing Paul by the vest dragging him up the ramp as a round went right into Paul’s shoulder burying itself into his torso. At this point Paul was unable to feel he was already starting to get very cold and dizzy. “Sorry mate I tried to get here as fast as I could to get you out of this whole thing. Getting the when and where and just getting here took ages” Aitken kept talking Paul tried to listen as he was hoisted up onto a bed. “Hang in there don’t leave us yet. You are bleeding out and have many internal injuries. The med scanner is still trying to figure out if you have organ damage. I’m going to get you to Fuelum if I can” with that Paul blacked out.